


Something I Need

by leviosaphoenix



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1967574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviosaphoenix/pseuds/leviosaphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oliver Queen’s life is changed forever, he finds himself turning to the one he trusts most. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Demons

**Your eyes, they shine so bright**  
**I wanna save that light**  
**I can't escape this now  
** **Unless you show me how**

Oliver stared unseeingly at the blue-grey blinds that were draped over the cool glass like a shield. If only he could see past them, maybe he’d have some answers to the whirlwind of questions in his mind.

At two in the morning, the hospital was surprisingly busy. He was barely paying attention to the dark-skinned nurse beside him as she read off a patient chart.

“So she’s doing fine; she’s stable. We just have some quick questions. Is she on any medication at the moment? Does she have any allergies? Has this happened before?”

“I’m sorry, can I just… can I have a second?” Oliver asked. “I need to make a phone call.”

The nurse looked perplexed, but she nodded, gesturing to an empty consult room, and he slipped his phone from his pocket and dialed a number his fingers knew well as the door clicked shut behind him.

The call picked up on the second ring. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes,” he answered, curtly. “I need you to come to Starling Memorial. Now.”

“You know, a please would be nice every now and then.”

“Now, _please_ ,” Oliver stressed, making it clear that he wasn’t kidding around.

“On my way.”

* * *

 

_“I messed up.”_

_Drunk and shivering on the doorstep, Laurel Lance blinked back tears and wiped her nose on her sleeve._

_Oliver Queen stared at her as if she were a ghost – and indeed, she was, because she’d vanished from Starling City six years ago and even his head of security, John Diggle, hadn’t been able to find her._

_“What are you doing here, Laurel?”_

_“I need your help, Ollie,” she whimpered, wiping her nose again and absently scratching at her forearm. “You always take care of me.”_

_“I always clean up your messes,” he sighed, crossing his arms. “How much?”_

_“What?”_

_“How much money do you need to pay off your dealer before you start losing fingers?”_

_Laurel scowled, her shoulders rising defensively. “It’s not like that.”_

_For six long years, Oliver had believed his high school sweetheart to be dead, or at the very least, gone forever from his life. She’d always been a loose cannon, unreliable, unpredictable, and he’d stayed with her because he’d loved her, because he felt he owed her that much. It was his fault she was like that, anyway._

_When they were younger, they’d lived the party life together: alcohol, drugs, the occasional night behind bars before being bailed out by the Queen family’s money and influence. Everything changed for Oliver, though, when his father died, leaving Queen Consolidated in his only son’s hands. He’d cleaned up his act, grown up, but Laurel couldn’t break the hold that addiction had over her._

_He’d tried to get her help through the years: she’d go to rehab, get clean, get a job, then something would happen and she’d go back to her downward spiral._

_Then came the part Oliver wished he could forget. Laurel’s careless attitude had resulted in her falling pregnant, and though it wasn’t ideal, he’d been excited at the idea of a child. A few months in, after ducking into the office briefly to sign some paperwork, he’d returned to find Laurel had taken a giant leap off the wagon. Wine bottle in one hand and joint in the other, she’d told him she’d lost the baby._

_A week later, she’d fled Starling City, and he’d rid himself of every last trace of her, including the baby book he’d bought on impulse on the way home from work that day._

_It was the last he’d known of her since then, until she’d turned up on his porch on a cold night in January._

_“You’re drunk,” Oliver pointed out._

_“I know. I’ve been better lately, I promise.”_

_“The promises of an addict mean nothing to me.”_

_“I just needed a break!” she cried. “Everything has been so hard.”_

_“I spent years trying to help you, but nothing is ever going to change until you start helping yourself.” He stepped back, ready to shut the door in her face._

_“I screwed up!”_

_“I’m aware of that!” Oliver shouted back at her, his voice rising at her for the first time. “You’ve turned up here after god knows how many years, broke, all alone…”_

_Laurel’s dark blue eyes lifted to meet his, and her teeth chewed at her lip worriedly. “Well, that’s the thing…”_

_Oliver’s phone buzzed in his pocket at that moment, and the words_ Starling City Memorial _flashed up on the screen._

_“Just wait one second,” he muttered, motioning for Laurel to come inside. “Hello? Yes, it’s Oliver. What? I haven’t… Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen.” Snapping the phone shut, he sighed and turned back to the ghost of his past. “They want me to go down to the hospital. Look, just stay here, sleep off whatever you’re on, take a shower, whatever. My mother and Thea are out of town, so just… try not to set anything on fire while you’re here, okay? We’ll talk later.”_

_Laurel nodded mutely, and Oliver grabbed his coat before heading out to his car._

_He wasn’t sure why the hospital needed to ask him some questions, but he had a feeling that his complicated night was only just getting started._

* * *

 

“Oliver, I know I’m your PA, and I often go above and beyond the demands of this job title, but why am I at a hospital at this time of night?”

He’d been pacing the waiting room deep in thought, and his head snapped up at the sound of her voice. He was so used to seeing his assistant in her usual business attire, he almost didn’t recognize her in a blue sweater and black jeans, her hair hanging straight and loose around her face.

“Felicity, I have a daughter,” he croaked, hoarsely, and she frowned.

“Are you drunk?”

“I have a daughter. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s almost six years old.”

“You have a daughter,” Felicity repeated, and he nodded morosely. “And I didn’t know about it.”

“I didn’t, either. Not until about an hour ago, when the hospital called, wanting to know what meds she takes and if she’s going to break out in hives when they give her penicillin.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure? How…?”

“Not quite,” he sighed. “Please, you’re the only person I can trust. I can’t do this alone.”

“Of course,” Felicity murmured, reaching up to place her hand on his shoulder. “Is she okay? I mean, obviously she’s in the hospital…”

“They said she was having breathing problems, but she’s stable now.”

“Have you been in there?”

Oliver shook his head. “I couldn’t.”

Felicity bit her lip. “And her mom?”

Oliver may have slacked off in his college days, but he wasn’t an idiot. It had only taken him two seconds to put together the most plausible explanation in his head. He cycled through some old photos on his phone, before he found a picture from one of Laurel’s rare sober spells, where she had her arms around a much younger Thea. “My ex, Laurel. I think.”

“Where is she?”

“At the house, probably passed out by now.”

Felicity shook her head, her eyes flicking upwards once as if she were appealing to a higher power. “Well, come on, then.” She took his arm and gently coaxed him forward, back to the desk where the nurse was typing on her computer.

“Everything okay, Mr. Queen?”

He nodded, swallowing, his anxiety rendering him unable to form words.

“So, we pulled some records from various hospitals out of state and we can see that Charlotte has a history of respiratory illness.”

“Can I see that?” he enquired, and the nurse nodded, turning her monitor to face him. The scanned form had the name _Charlotte Lance_ listed in Laurel’s hasty scrawl, as well as his name and contact information in the _father_ box.

“We’re going to need your current insurance details, and your signature on this consent form, so we can do some further tests.”

“Can he… uh, can we see her?” Felicity jumped in, seeing the panicked look on Oliver’s face.

“Of course. I’ll take you up to pediatrics right now.”

In silence, they followed her up two floors in the elevator. Oliver hadn’t been to this part of the hospital since Thea had broken her arm at the age of eight. The walls were painted pale yellow and lined with pictures, and the nurses had uniforms patterned with balloons and teddy bears. One of them smiled at him as he walked past, an older woman with hair that greyed at the temples and the kind of face that made you feel safe and reassured.

“We had to intubate, so she won’t be able to speak, but she’ll know you’re there,” the nurse told them quietly. “Go ahead, and call out if you need anything.”

Oliver glanced nervously at Felicity, and she elbowed him, nodding her head toward the door. Through the panel of glass, they could see a tiny figure in the bed, surrounded by machines.

The door swung open, and he entered, still partially expecting one of his high school buddies to jump out at him and crow about their elaborate prank.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped forward, his heart screeching to a halt. He knew those big blue eyes, they were his mom’s, Thea’s, his _own_. Sure, the cheekbones were higher, the lips narrower, the hair pale blonde and curly, but those eyes threw him.

He felt the shreds of doubt start to fall away, and then the girl started to panic.

She choked slightly, her expression fearful, pushing herself back into her pillows to move as far away as possible, and her heart monitor started to bleat plaintively at them. Instinctively, he wanted to comfort her, but he’d frozen under the pressure.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he tried to tell her, but she still looked alarmed.

Thinking on her feet, Felicity jumped forward, snatching Oliver’s phone from his pocket and chattering while she pressed some buttons.

“Hey, Charlotte, my name is Felicity, and this is Oliver. He knows your mom, okay? Look,” she said, holding out the phone with the photo displayed onscreen. “That’s her, right? Laurel.”

Charlotte visibly relaxed, but her eyes flicked past them as if she were expecting her mother to walk in any second.

“She’s sleeping right now, at Oliver’s house,” Felicity explained gently. “But she’ll come to see you soon.”

Charlotte blinked once in acknowledgement.

“I know you must be frightened, because you don’t know us, but I promise everything is going to be okay.” Felicity glanced up at Oliver, stepping away for a moment and speaking in a low voice. “What do you think?”

The thoughts were clattering loudly around in his head. Was he really going to believe this? Was this little girl – Charlotte – really his daughter? The baby Laurel had lost all those years ago, or, he supposed, _hadn’t_ lost? The timeline fit, and then she had his eyes…

“I think that, until we’re sure one way or another, I’m not leaving a scared and sick child alone in a hospital bed while I try to sober her mother up enough to get some answers,” Oliver said, trying to sound confident.

Felicity nodded her agreement. “I’ll stay with her; you go sort out Laurel.”

“You’re a godsend, Felicity Smoak.”

She blushed slightly, trying to cover it by turning back to Charlotte.

“Oliver has to go and talk to your mom, but I’m going to keep you company, if that’s okay?”

Charlotte nodded hesitantly, and Felicity smiled.

“You can go to sleep, if you want. I promise, I’ll stay right here with you.” The blue eyes fluttered closed, and together, Oliver and Felicity breathed a silent sigh of relief. _Go_ , she mouthed at him, and he nodded.

The last thing he saw as he left the room was his most trusted employee seated in the armchair beside the bed and holding the tiny blonde’s hand.


	2. Bad Blood

**We were young and drinking in the park**  
 **There was nowhere else to go**  
 **And you said you always had my back  
** **Oh but how were we to know**

**That these are the days that bind you together, forever  
** **And these little things define you forever, forever**

Interrogating Laurel proved to be futile when she’d consumed enough alcohol to knock out a baby rhinoceros. She’d collapsed onto the couch when he’d left, so he pulled off her shoes, draped a blanket over her, and set a tall glass of water on the coffee table.

Unable to sleep, he texted Dig, his head of security and sometimes bodyguard, asking him to look into the existence of Charlotte Lance. Their searches for Laurel in the past few years had failed to yield any results, but kids had birth certificates, school records, and that kind of thing was harder to bury.

He dozed, fitfully, then spent a couple of hours filling out paperwork. When his email pinged with a reply from Diggle, he read and reread the files he’d been forwarded with anger growing in his heart.

Oliver had known Charlotte had a long history of illness, but he hadn’t quite known the extent. She’d been in and out of hospitals from birth, and they were scattered across the entire country, as if they’d constantly been on the move. Her school records reflected this: she’d never spent longer than three months in the same institution, and in the last six months she didn’t appear to have attended school at all.

He didn’t know much about kids, but he knew that stability in the formative years was essential for childhood development. It infuriated him that Laurel had allowed her own problems to affect a young, defenseless child, and that she’d waited this long to ask him for help.

Of course, there was always the possibility that she was lying, and Charlotte was not his daughter, but at this point he wasn’t willing to risk it.

He heard a groan from the living room, and returned to see Laurel sitting up and clutching her head.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” he said, stiffly.

“Ollie? What are you… why am I here?”

He bent down, holding her shoulders so he could look into her eyes. Her pupils looked normal; she was clearly down from whatever she had been on before. Perfect.

“ _You_ came here and asked me for help, and then the hospital called and told me that they needed me to answer some questions about my _daughter_.”

She remained silent, simply rubbing her fingers against her temples.

“Why the hell do I have a five-year-old I never knew about, Laurel?”

“I couldn’t tell you!”

“You told me you’d had a miscarriage and took off!”

“I didn’t know how to deal with it!” she protested, tears shining in her eyes. “I knew you were always going to do the right thing, Ollie, and something my sister said made me realize that I was holding you back. God knows I’d already dragged your name through the mud with my… activities…”

“I have a child, Laurel. No matter what, I _deserved_ to know.”

“Have you told anybody yet? My dad? Sara?”

Oliver sighed and shook his head. “No, but I will. You need serious help. There is a child in _hospital_ because of you.”

“I can’t be a mother!” Laurel exclaimed. “Somebody like me is never going to make a good parent.”

“You don’t _choose_ to be a parent. You have a daughter, and you can’t just undo that, or give up when it gets too hard.”

“I made her sick. _I_ did that.”

“Exactly, so you have to deal with the fallout.” Oliver pulled out his phone, shooting a quick text to Sara. _Laurel’s here_.

_Ten minutes_. The reply was almost instantaneous.

“What are we going to do now, Ollie?” Laurel asked, her voice shaking slightly.

“You’re going to go home with your sister and calm down, and later I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“How… how is she?”

“Scared,” Oliver said bluntly. “She’s five years old and she has a tube in her throat because she stopped breathing. How would you feel?”

“Is she alone?”

“No. I would _never_ just leave her there like you did.”

Laurel nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. She took the aspirin he’d left for her, hiding her face in her hands, and they remained silent until there was a knock at the door.

Sara said nothing when she saw her older sister, just shaking her head ruefully.

“Take her home,” Oliver said. “I’ll come by later.”

“I’m sorry, Ollie,” Laurel murmured as they bundled her into the car.

“Then show me. Show _Charlotte_.”

And with that, the car pulled out of the driveway, and Oliver began to wonder what the hell to do next. 

* * *

 

Starling City Memorial was a hive of activity when Oliver got back to his daughter’s room. Concerned parents held vigils by their kids’ beds, talked in low tones with doctors, or sat in the waiting room chewing on their nails as they waited for news.

He stood by the window, taking in the sight of his assistant, curled in the armchair, fast asleep. She was wrapped in a blue blanket, and her trademark glasses rested on the table, beside a notepad with some scrawled letters and pictures in pink crayon.

His daughter appeared to be asleep, too, slightly elevated with her tiny hands folded over her stomach. She seemed relaxed, or at least, as relaxed as she could be with an awful plastic tube holding her throat open.

“She reminds me a lot of you,” a kind voice murmured. Oliver turned around to see the older pediatric nurse he’d noticed earlier, and he frowned in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve treated a lot of children in my day, yourself included, and many of those children have gone on to become parents. The very minute Miss Lance brought that girl in here, I knew she was a Queen.”

He squinted at her name badge. “Nurse… Peterson. How is she doing?”

“She’s a fighter, just like her father. Refuses to let anybody know she’s in pain. Didn’t even flinch when we drew blood earlier. Go on; go in there.”

Oliver smiled slightly and thanked her, and she patted him on the shoulder, comfortingly.

Felicity awoke with a start as he walked in. “Oliver! Hi.” She slipped her glasses on, then frowned as she studied his face. “Have you slept at all?”

“Enough,” he told her, but she didn’t look convinced. “How have things been going here?”

“She’s doing okay. They ran some more tests: an EKG, a chest x-ray, a blood test. The doctor didn’t really want to speak to somebody who wasn’t family, but he told me she might be able to breathe on her own soon.”

Oliver sighed with relief. “That’s good, right?”

“Right. We spent most of the night talking, or, at least, I talked and she wrote. She seems very smart.”

Oliver looked at the pad of paper, taking note of the well-spelt words, detailed pictures, and reasonably neat lettering.

“Is Laurel with you?” Felicity inquired, and his face darkened slightly.

“No, I sent her home to her family. She’s not any use to Charlotte until she’s calmed down.”

Felicity bit her lip.

“What?”

“It’s… nothing. It’s just,” she squirmed under his penetrating gaze, “I asked Charlotte to draw her home.”

“And?” Oliver asked, not liking where this was going.

“And she drew… this.” Felicity pulled one sheet of paper from under the rest, on it, a hot pink car, with a stick woman in the front and a stick child in the back. “I asked her about houses, and she said she didn't really remember any of them. That isn’t any way for a kid to grow up, Oliver.”

“I _know_ that,” Oliver said, tightly. “Don’t you think if I knew she existed, I’d have taken care of her?”

“Of _course_ , I know you would.”

He sighed, rubbing his face and sitting down in the chair by the door. “You should go home and get some rest. Thank you for staying with her.”

“Sure thing.”

“I mean it, Felicity,” he insisted. “This is above and beyond the role of _assistant_.”

She smiled, tilting her head at him. “Well, obviously, but it’s perfectly within the parameters of _friend_.”

As she stood to leave, the door swung open. “Good morning, Ms. Smoak, and you must be Mr. Queen. I’m your daughter’s physician, Dr. Lamb.” The kind-eyed man held out his hand for Oliver to shake. “Can I speak to you outside for a moment?”

He glanced back at his assistant. “Felicity, I know-”

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him warmly as she sat down again. “I’ll hold down the fort in here.”

Oliver followed the doctor out into the hallway, dread sinking into his stomach as he was led into a private consultation room – the same room where anxious parents were given the worst news they would ever hear.

“Is she going to be okay?” he choked out.

“Yes, she will be fine. We can extubate as soon as she wakes up. I’m more concerned about her wellbeing _after_ she’s discharged.”

“Oh.”

“From my understanding, I gather that Charlotte has been living with her mother, and you have not seen her at all; is that correct?”

“Yes," he answered, tightly.

“Charlotte has pleurisy, an infection in the lining of her lungs which caused her chest pain and respiration issues. Normally, we don’t see this in children; however, Charlotte’s asthma has made her susceptible to it. It should clear up with bedrest and fluids.”

Oliver let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Her records show that she should be on medication to control her asthma, but for whatever reason, she hasn’t been taking it. She is also underweight for a child of her age, and her vitamin levels are low. We’ve spoken to Social Services, and they’d like to assess whether or not it is in Charlotte’s best interests to be living with her mother.”

“I see.”

“We’ll need to speak to Ms. Lance, of course. Could you ask her to come down to the hospital?”

“Yes, sure.” Oliver pulled out his phone, dialing Sara, and the doctor nodded to him as he left the room.

“Hello?”

“Sara, hi. Is everything okay?”

“What do you mean?” Sara sounded genuinely confused.

“Laurel. Is she feeling better?”

There was a pause. “Isn’t she with you?”

He knew, then, but the words stuck in his throat as Sara’s voice filled with anxiety.

“You sent a cab about half an hour ago. She told me you called and asked her to come down to the hospital.”

“I didn’t… I never made that call.”

Sara sucked in her breath through her teeth, and then swore. “Not again.”

Oliver hung up slowly, trying to control the shaking in his hands.

“Oliver?”

He looked around to see Felicity standing in the doorway, her eyes wide and fearful, and he clenched his fists against the tide of anger that threatened to overwhelm him.

“She’s gone.”

* * *

 

The worst part of telling Charlotte her mother had split had been the quiet acceptance in the young girl’s eyes, as if she had known it was coming.

She was still yet to say a word on the drive back to the manor, hours after the tube had been removed from her throat. Social Services had decided in Laurel’s absence that Charlotte could temporarily stay with her father, as long as he agreed to have regular appointments with a social worker. It had all been a blur, agreeing and signing and nodding, and he was thankful that Felicity had stayed until Charlotte’s discharge, because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle it without her.

“This is where I live,” he tried as he drove up to the house. Her blue eyes took it in, saw it all, but she still said nothing. “My mother and my sister live here, too, but they’re on vacation.” He reminded himself to warn them before they got home the following day and wondered whose five-year-old he’d kidnapped.

She followed him meekly through the house as he showed her the foyer, the kitchen, and the living room.

“That’s Mommy’s sweater.”

He jumped at the words, glancing over to see her picking up the dirty grey hoodie Laurel had managed to leave behind.

“Yes.”

“Is Mommy here?”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead agitatedly. “No, she isn’t.”

“Oh. Where did she go?” The little girl’s tone had lost some of its shyness, and now she was more inquisitive than anything else.

“I wish I knew.”

“When’s she coming back?”

Oliver looked away, unable to meet those clear blue eyes. “I don’t know.” Truthfully, he didn’t believe she ever would, but he couldn’t break his own daughter’s heart.

“Okay,” she shrugged. “Like last time.”

The words made him freeze, and after a beat, he knelt in front of her, trying to stay calm. “Last time?”

She nodded. “Mommy was sick. She said go to Mrs. Cooper next door, so I did.”

“How long was she gone?”

Charlotte’s face scrunched up in thought. “A week?”

“Okay,” he murmured, suppressing his anger. “Let’s go look upstairs.”

Her eyes went wide at all the lavish guest rooms and bathrooms on the second floor.

“And this here is your room,” he said brightly. He chose one just up the hall from his own, not wanting her to feel alone or isolated in a strange house.

“I’ve never had a big-girl room before.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to spend some time decorating it however you like.” Oliver could tell from Charlotte’s expression that the décor and intimidating king-sized bed made her uncomfortable. “Maybe Felicity will take you shopping?”

Charlotte visibly brightened at this. “Okay.”

He was at a loss now, wondering what he could do to keep his daughter occupied. He hadn’t the faintest idea about how to be a father, and if he didn’t know that Felicity was spending a well-deserved day off dead to the world in her own bed, he’d call her and beg for help.

“What do you like to do, Charlotte?”

She shrugged. “Read. Color.”

“What about when your mother was around?”

“Sometimes we’d go to the store and play The Secret Game.”

“What’s that?” he inquired.

“I pretend to be sad and Mommy hides movies and clothes while people aren’t looking.”

Oliver gritted his teeth. “A lot of the things that Laurel used to do are wrong, did you know that?”

Charlotte said nothing.

“When you go to a store, you have to pay for everything with money.”

“Mommy says that sometimes it’s okay when we don’t have any money.”

Oliver shook his head. “She’s wrong.”

“Okay.” Charlotte didn’t look convinced.

“So, you said you like to read? I can show you the library.”

Charlotte’s eyebrows flew up. “You have a library?”

“Yes, come on.”

Oliver had never been more grateful that his mother had hoarded his and Thea’s childhood book collection as Charlotte pored over every title before choosing one.

“Oliver?”

He flinched involuntarily at her first use of his name. “Yeah?”

“You can go do grown-up stuff now.”

He grinned at the pointed expression on her face. “You got it, kid.”

He was still smiling when he was back in his office sending a brief text to Felicity: _All well at Queen Manor_. It was time to make a dent in the mountain of paperwork relating to both upcoming work projects and to Charlotte’s sudden entrance into his life.

His phone buzzed once. _Knew you could do it, Mr. I-can’t-be-a-dad!_

Shaking his head, he set his phone aside and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's Chapter Two! Hope you enjoyed it. Brief disclaimer: I don't know much about the medical field. My description of Charlotte's condition in this story comes from internet research and my own experiences with asthma and pleurisy. Please, if you know any more than I do, do your best to overlook it? *smiles sweetly*
> 
> Thanks so much for the response to the last chapter! Again, I want to thank Jenn for all her support with this story; it wouldn't exist without her. The next update won't be too far away, but tomorrow I fly back home (after spending the last four weeks in Canada and, briefly, the US) and then I have to get my stuff in order to go back to university and work as normal next week. I apologise in advance if it takes longer than, say, ten days. Thanks, guys!


	3. Heartlines

**And there’s fantasy, there’s fallacy, there’s tumbling stone.**  
 **Echoes of a city that’s long overgrown.**  
 **Your heart is the only place that I call home,  
** **I cannot be returned.**

Two days later, Felicity showed up at his front door wearing a green sweater, dark jeans, and a beaming smile. It faltered in surprise when Charlotte lit up and practically jumped into her arms, but she looked pleased.

“Hey, honey. You look a lot better than the last time I saw you!”

“Yup,” Charlotte nodded. “Oliver says that as long as I take my medicine I won’t get sick again.”

“You should still be resting,” he reprimanded gently from the bottom of the staircase.

“But resting is _boring_.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Felicity explained, setting her down. “Oliver has some even _more_ boring stuff to do today, so we’re going to go shopping.”

“Really?” The little girl's eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yes, really! So go get your coat and scarf.”

Charlotte headed for the stairs, ducking under Oliver’s arm, and Felicity absorbed just how exhausted he looked.

“Thank you for doing this,” Oliver sighed, rubbing his temples. “She likes you.”

“I like her, too,” Felicity smiled. “How did it go with your mother and Thea yesterday?”

“Not well. She got shy and hid in her room. Thea even tried to talk her into a Disney movie and she refused.”

“And how did they take the news?”

“They were shocked, but they both agree that Charlotte is a Queen and we can’t just abandon her. She stays, at least until we can track Laurel down or figure out an option that would be in Charlotte’s best interests.”

She frowned at his words, opening her mouth to protest but snapping it shut when Charlotte returned, this time wrapped up in a worn-looking grey coat.

“Where’re we going first?” Charlotte inquired.

Felicity wrinkled her nose at the state of the girl's winter ensemble. “How about we start by buying you some new clothes?”

Charlotte nodded, and Felicity took her hand as they moved to the door. _Get some sleep,_ she mouthed over her shoulder.

He rolled his eyes at her and headed for his study to prepare for a meeting later that afternoon.

* * *

“Felicity?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

They were seated in an ice cream parlor enjoying mint and chocolate chip – a mutual favorite. Charlie was wearing a new pink pea coat and her unruly hair had been trimmed to shoulder length, complete with bangs. 

“When I was with Mommy, people called me Charlie.” Her voice was so soft, Felicity thought for a moment that she was talking to her dessert.

“They did?”

“Yes. I like it,” Charlotte admitted, meeting her eyes timidly.

Felicity smiled. “Would you like me to call you Charlie?”

“Yes, please.”

“And Oliver, too?” Felicity asked.

Charlotte nodded.

“You got it.”

The little girl looked down at her ice cream again, toying with her spoon.

“What’s on your mind?” Felicity asked, with a tilt of her head.

“Is Oliver my daddy?”

Felicity almost choked with surprise. “What makes you ask that?”

“I knew,” the girl said simply. “And then I heard him talking to Thea.”

“You’re really smart, you know that?” Felicity remarked.

“Mommy told me that my daddy didn’t want me. She said he was mean to her, and he made her leave.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I don’t know. Oliver said Mommy did a lot of bad things. Maybe she ran away from him, too.”

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears and Felicity quickly slid into the booth beside her, wrapping the girl in her arms.

“No, Charlie. It isn’t like that. Your mommy is very sick, but not the kind of sick that medicine can fix.”

“When is she coming back? Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Felicity admitted. “But it’s important for you to stay with Oliver for a while, even if she does come back. If she stays sick, she can’t take care of you. Do you understand?”

“I guess,” Charlie sniffed.

“Good. Now, finish your ice cream. We only have a few hours to buy everything you need to decorate your very own big-girl room.”

Charlotte gave her a weak smile and swallowed a couple more bites of ice cream before pushing the bowl away. Felicity inspected it with a mock-stern expression before winking. “Good job. Let’s go!”

As the driver pulled away from the curb, Felicity sent Oliver a message, suppressing the urge to shout at him over the phone in front of his daughter. She still couldn't wrap her mind around what he had said earlier, about considering other options for Charlotte's upbringing. 

_Don’t even consider putting this child in foster care. If you don’t want custody, I’ll adopt her myself_.

Blessedly, Felicity found that they could continue shopping in peace. The tabloids still hadn’t gotten wind of Oliver Queen’s secret child, but she knew it was only a matter of time. After Charlie had chosen some new bed sheets, a colorful painting, a dollhouse, and a stuffed lion toy, Felicity picked out some DVDs and a board game, and paid with the platinum credit card Oliver had insisted she keep for emergencies.

“Is Oliver your best friend?” Charlie asked as they drove back to the manor.

“Yeah, we’re friends,” Felicity answered, vaguely.

“But is he your best friend?”

“I don’t really have a best friend, I guess.”

Charlie nodded sagely. “I don’t; Penny was my best friend in school, but I don’t go there anymore.”

“If Oliver says it’s okay, we might be able to look at some schools for you next week.” Felicity knew that it was important to get Charlie in school as soon as possible, so she’d been looking into ones in the area. The private academy that Oliver and Thea had both attended seemed like the best option, and she was ready to run it past Oliver as soon as he had a second to listen.

“Felicity?”

“Mmm?” she responded, only half-listening.

“If you don’t have one either, can you be my best friend?”

Felicity almost ran off the road in shock. She glanced over and saw the little girl’s earnest expression, wordlessly pleading for affirmation.

“Of course, Charlie,” she found herself saying, and she swallowed hard at the look of pure joy on Charlotte’s face. Felicity knew she was in trouble – she’d fallen in love with her boss’s kid right from the get-go, and she knew she would only get more attached in a situation that was likely to end messily.

She just knew she couldn’t be responsible for breaking Charlie’s heart more than it was broken already.

* * *

 

Oliver was asleep when they arrived, and Felicity quietly started to set up Charlie’s bedroom, enjoying the sound of the little girl’s giggles as she played with her new dollhouse. It was comforting to hear, considering the rough start she’d had to life.

She was just folding the last of the clothes and putting them away when her phone buzzed, and she saw it was a message from Oliver. _Come to my office_.

Charlie seemed happy enough, so Felicity wandered through the labyrinth her boss called a house in search of the study out of which Oliver often worked.

“Shut the door,” he said, his back to the doorway as she lifted her hand to knock.

Felicity frowned at his back, wondering why he wasn’t turning to face her. “We got everything we needed today.”

“That’s good.”

“Is everything okay?”

“What on earth makes you think I’m sending my daughter to foster care?” he demanded, whirling around.

She blinked at him in surprise. “You said you were considering it!”

“I never-”

“I know she’s not my daughter and I know I have no right to tell you how to raise her, but that little girl does _not_ deserve to be hurt any more than she has been already. I would rather adopt her myself than let her go into the system; I mean, have you _heard_ what those kids go through? How hard it is for them to find a good home? I may not be ready to be a parent but Charlie is too sweet and too smart to be sent to some awful family where they’d ignore and neglect her, or _worse_ …”

“Felicity, slow down! I have no intention of letting any of that happen.” At some stage during her rant, Oliver had approached her and allowed his hands to fall on her shoulders.

“You said you wanted to figure out what was in her best interests. What was that supposed to mean?” 

“If Charlotte isn’t happy here, I would consider a private adoption as a last resort. _Never_ foster care.”

He met her angered gaze for a moment, trying to convince her. Breathing hard, she noticed just how close he was and took a small step back, and his hands dropped to his sides. “Good,” she murmured.

Oliver smiled at her, and lifted one eyebrow. “So, Charlie?”

“Oh, yes,” Felicity said, pushing her glasses up her nose in an attempt to regain her composure. “She wants us to call her Charlie.”

“I like it. Anything else?”

“She knows you’re her father.”

Oliver stared at her for a moment, before shrugging. “She would have found out eventually.”

Felicity nodded in agreement. “Did you get much sleep?”

“Only the last hour or so. It was enough.”

“Oliver-” she began, exasperated.

“Trust me, Felicity. Thank you for today.”

“Of course,” she murmured, turning to leave.

“No, I mean it,” he said firmly, taking her wrist so she looked him in the eye. “You’re remarkable.”

Blushing, she just smiled at him before he dropped her hand and let her leave.

As she headed down the driveway, this time alone in her car, she did her best to tamp down on the niggling feelings she was beginning to have about her boss. Felicity had worked at QC for four years, starting off in IT and communications, and she’d met Oliver when a virus had completely wiped his hard drive the day before an important meeting with investors.

They’d spent the entire night in his office as she fixed it, and he’d offered her breakfast in the morning as soon as his meeting was done. She’d turned him down, of course – no employee wanted to be seen publicly with her boss’s boss in day old clothing looking like she hadn’t slept.

When she’d arrived at work the next day, she’d found hot coffee and croissants waiting for her on her desk, and from that day on, the friendship was cemented.

Two years ago, he’d offered her a position as his assistant, and after her initial reluctance to appear like she was using their friendship to climb the corporate ladder, he’d convinced her. She had realized that the office gossip was going to fly regardless of her title – the time they spent together outside of work already raised eyebrows, even though there hadn’t been a hint of it going any further than platonic. She’d accepted the job, and he had given her far more responsibility and autonomy than the position of _assistant_ required.

Felicity wasn’t blind; she considered Oliver attractive. Once or twice, she’d even allowed herself to entertain the idea of them becoming something else, imagining the way her high school ‘friends’ would react to Oliver Queen showing up to their ten-year reunion. Until today, however, she didn’t think she’d felt anything stronger than attraction and friendly affection for him.

_It’s just the kid thing making you see him differently_ , she told herself firmly. _Don’t even go there._

* * *

Oliver paced his office, agitatedly fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. Diggle hadn’t been able to track Laurel at all – the cab had dropped her off at the train station and they hadn’t been able to find her on security footage, so she could have gone anywhere.

Laurel’s father, Quentin, was a detective for the Starling City Police Department, and he’d reached out to cities in the area for any sign of her with no luck. As she was an adult and there were no warrants out for her arrest, they couldn’t do much more than ask favors.

The social worker had been in touch; it was that phone call that had woken him up from his nap. Joanna de la Vega spoke briskly, didn’t beat around the bush, and knew what she was doing, three traits that obviously came in handy for her occupation. She had reminded him that she could drop in at any time, that he had to sign some forms to release Charlotte’s hospital records to her, and that Charlotte needed to be enrolled in school and have her academic ability assessed as soon as possible.

“Ollie?”

He looked toward the doorway and saw Thea, who seemed concerned.

“Hey, Speedy. I didn’t realize you’d be coming home this early.”

“Roy had to go to work. Where’s Charlotte?”

“She’s in her bedroom.”

“And your assistant?” Thea asked with a smirk.

“She’s gone home. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Thea shrugged. “I was beginning to think you’d ask her to stay here. Charlotte likes her.”

Oliver didn’t respond, instead returning to his desk and shuffling papers around.

“I spoke to Mom. She’s already got the lawyers and PR people working stuff out. You can’t keep her hidden forever, you know.”

“It’s only been a few days. Charlie deserves a break; she needs to be able to live a normal life.”

“I know that, Ollie, but she’s a Queen. Her life is never going to be normal.” Thea leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms. “The sooner we get on top of the press, the greater chance we have of controlling them.”

“You’re right,” he sighed.

“I always am. Pizza for dinner?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll run it by Charlotte… Charlie?”

He nodded.

“Okay. Maybe I can talk her into watching _Frozen_. Do you want to join us?”

He gestured to the stack of files on his desk. “No, I have work to do.” 

“Okay," Thea frowned, turning to leave, pausing, and thinking better of it. "But Ollie? Just remember what it was like to grow up with nannies instead of our parents. Don’t put your daughter through the same thing.”

And with that, she stalked out, letting the door swing shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You guys are the best. And, to honour the fact that YOU are the best, I'm going to be doing MY best to make this story the best possible story it can be. Unfortunately, that means taking the next five-ish chapters I have written, which I admittedly kinda rushed through, and embellishing on/restructuring them a little to give you all the highest quality writing I can produce. I don't want to be serving up something I didn't pour my heart and soul into, and I think you'd be able to tell.
> 
> Fear not! The next chapter isn't too far away. Until then, hope you're all surviving the hiatus and the onslaught of info we got from SDCC. Much love. x


	4. Hercules

**I've lost a grip on where I started from**  
 **I wish I'd thought ahead and left a few crumbs**  
 **I'm on the hunt for who I've not yet become  
** **But I'd settle for a little equilibrium**

“What do you think? Do you like it here?”

Charlotte nodded silently, and Oliver sighed to himself. Felicity had been needed at Queen Consolidated, so instead he’d enlisted the help of Diggle to look at schools, and Charlotte had barely spoken a word the entire time.

Besides, as Diggle had pointed out, it wasn’t fair to rely on Felicity to drop everything for him. She had her own life to live, too.

John Diggle was ex-military, and he’d gone into private security after returning from active duty. He’d been hired to look out for Oliver during his party days, and had stayed on when Oliver became CEO. Apart from his sister and his assistant, there was nobody Oliver trusted more.

“Dig?” 

“It’s a good school, you know that. The facilities are the best and the security system is state of the art.” They were mid-tour of Starling Preparatory Academy, which he’d found on Felicity’s list marked with a tiny star. It was a private school that catered for elementary and middle school students, and to her credit, the vice principal had barely registered surprise at the secret daughter of Oliver Queen. It was a common choice for children of the rich and famous – Oliver himself was evidence of that.

“Okay,” Oliver relented. “Ms. Washington?”

The vice principal looked up from her desk with a smile. “Jana, please.”

“Jana, I’d like to enroll Charlotte here as soon as possible, so she doesn’t fall any further behind.”

“Of course. She needs to take a few standard tests to assess her level, but I can’t see any reason she couldn’t start classes next week.”

“Tests?” Charlie piped up, looking worried.

“They just want to see how well you can read, or do math,” Diggle explained, bending down to be at her level, "and you love reading and math, so you're going to ace it." She gave him a small smile in response, and he winked at her.

“If you don’t mind waiting an extra half hour, she can take the test now?” Jana offered, and Oliver nodded.

“You’ll be fine,” Diggle told Charlie. He held out his closed fist, and she giggled before bumping it with her own.

They went to wait in the hallway, Diggle calmly taking a seat on one of the plastic chairs, and Oliver pacing briefly before glancing at his watch and stepping outside to make a phone call.

“Oliver? Is everything okay?”

The faint twisting in his stomach that had lingered there all morning melted away at the sound of her voice. “Yes, we’re fine. Charlotte’s taking a placement test and I knew you’d be on lunch, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, and he could hear her taking a bite out of her sandwich. “So you’ve chosen a school?”

“The one that you picked out, naturally.” 

“Does Charlie like it?”

“I wish I knew how to tell,” he admitted, and the line went silent for a moment.

“Oliver…”

“She opens up around you, you know, but when you’re not here, she goes right back to silent mode.”

“Just keep trying,” Felicity said, reassuringly.

“Even just now, with Dig, she smiled and laughed a little.”

“Dig has a nephew about her age,” she reminded him. “He’s had six years to get used to being around a kid. You’ve had… six days?”

Oliver sighed, and Felicity continued, softening her voice a little.

“She can probably just tell you’re as scared as she is. It’s going to take both of you some time to open up to each other.”

That was what he both loved and hated about Felicity – her unflinching ability to see right through him. “You’re right.”

“Tell her I’ll come by tomorrow after work.” There was a muffled sound at the other end of the line, and he heard her telling somebody she’d be right there. “I have to go, Oliver; I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Thanks, Felicity.”

“See you later.”

* * *

When the vice principal had informed him that Charlotte’s results had shocked her, he hadn’t expected her to suggest skipping her up a grade.

“She’s reading and writing well above a first grade level. She could easily manage the second grade content, despite her age. I’d recommend that you consider it.”

Oliver was speechless, so Diggle had stepped in.

“She hasn’t even completed a full year of kindergarten.”

Jana had frowned. “No private tutoring?”

“No. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Academically, she can handle it. We will just have to monitor her social development to make sure she’s adjusting.”

When they’d arrived back at the mansion, Charlotte had quickly retired to her bedroom with a book, and Diggle had excused himself and left. Oliver was now sitting alone in the living room, a news broadcast muted in the background, and lost in thought. He didn’t understand how Charlie could have missed so much school and still be so far ahead of her classmates, although he figured the hours she must have spent alone with nothing but books to keep her company could have contributed. Clearly she’d had to grow up fast, with a mother like Laurel, and that was represented through her intelligence.

His mother was due to give the press release about Charlotte any moment. Their lawyers had recommended they keep it short, with a minimum amount of detail. It was definitely necessary, as without it, the story would surely break at an inconvenient time and the media attention would be unforgiving. Oliver knew that, but he still hated that his daughter could be subjected to the same public life that he'd resented when he'd been younger.

Sure enough, the broadcast changed to show his mother in front of a small bunch of reporters, with the _breaking news_ banner running at the bottom of the screen. He turned up the volume just in time to hear her brief speech.

“In the interest of full disclosure to our loyal investors, I would like to make public that my son, Oliver, has recently obtained custody of his daughter. Queen Consolidated would like to thank the press for respecting our family’s privacy at this time. No further questions.”

He knew it was only a matter of time before the tabloids got ahold of more information, but for now, they needed to absorb the surprise announcement. He knew that releasing Charlotte’s name or age would have been a mistake, as there would be room for web searches or speculation of the mother. Laurel’s ‘miscarriage’ hadn’t been public knowledge, but the messy breakup had provided gossip fodder for weeks, and it wouldn’t take a genius to identify Charlotte as a potential cause for the split.

Regardless, Oliver hoped that the Starling City paparazzi would continue their trend of leaving young children out of the fifth page news.

“Hungry?”

He looked up to see his sister holding out a green plastic bowl of fresh popcorn, a winning smile on her face.

“What did you do?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Nothing.” She dropped onto the sofa beside him.

“Then what do you _want_?”

“ _Nothing_ , Ollie. God, can’t a sister do something nice for her big brother every once in a while?” she asked, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“Not when it’s you, Speedy. You’ve always got an ulterior motive.”

“What does ult… ult-er-ior motive mean?”

Charlie stood shyly in the doorway, holding her stuffed lion. Thea beamed and shifted over, patting the seat as an invitation.

“It means your Aunt Thea is only nice to me when she wants something.” Oliver shocked himself with his words: _Aunt_ Thea? Charlie, however, didn’t seem fazed, and she slowly walked over and settled herself on the couch between them, crossing her legs.

“May I have some, please?” she asked, and Thea gave him an impressed look over the top of the little girl’s head.

“Sure, kid,” he said.

“I’m going to Roy’s,” Thea said, and Oliver tensed up at the scheming look in her eye, “but why don’t the two of you watch a movie or something?”

Their matching reluctant expressions almost made Thea laugh.

“I guess,” Oliver relented, and Thea jumped up to look at the newly unpacked stack of child-friendly DVDs by the television.

“What do you think? _Mulan_? _Finding Nemo_? _Lion King_?”

“That one,” Charlie smiled.

Oliver had to admit it was one of his favorite movies from when he was a kid, and the nostalgia hit him hard as the iconic chant began to play.

Though he loved the movie, he found he loved watching Charlie’s face as she experienced it for the first time even more.

They’d finished their popcorn by the stampede scene, and after a moment’s hesitation, Oliver set the bowl on the coffee table and pulled Charlie into his arms to comfort her as she cried. She stayed curled against him for the duration of the movie, and as the end credits rolled, he saw her eyelashes flutter once before she fell asleep.

The late afternoon sunshine was streaming through the windows, and for the first time, Oliver felt like he could relax. When asleep, Charlie no longer seemed like this child that he barely knew, that he had to treat so gingerly because he was afraid she’d spook.

After a while, he carefully picked her up so her weight rested on his hip, her cheek on his shoulder. It was the first time he’d carried her, so he tried not to wake her as he took her to her bedroom and settled her into her bed.

As much as he’d enjoyed their quiet siesta, he was still a CEO with a mountain of paperwork to get through.

* * *

Felicity had a date – well, if Thursday night drinks with a vaguely attractive guy from the QC IT department, Adam, counted as a date. She’d admired his courage, fighting through all the stuttering to get his words out, and had agreed because she felt too bad to let him down.

It had gone well enough, but she often found herself talking to fill his awkward pauses, and more often than not the things she babbled about were related to her favorite tiny blonde.

“Charlie sounds great. I, uh, I didn’t know you were a mom,” Adam stammered.

Felicity blushed. “No, no. Charlie’s the daughter of… a friend.” She realized belatedly that it wasn’t wise of her to be telling somebody she didn’t really know all about her boss’s daughter. Not only would it look like she was too involved in Oliver’s personal life, it would leave cracks for the tabloids to pry open.

“Oh, thank God,” Adam breathed, laughing slightly. “I’ve dated women with children before; it’s so much effort. It isn't an experience I'm looking to repeat.”

The words were like cold water in her face, and then all she could see was red.

“Excuse me?”

He glanced at her, nervously fiddling with his tie. “I mean, uh, you know. The kids have to like you; they have to get sitters when you want to go out; they start asking you to do favors and pick the kids up from school or whatever. I mean, uh, children tie you down.”

His confidence seemed to dissipate with every word as her expression grew angrier, and then she let him have it.

“How could you say that? Any single parent is doing it tough to start out with, and the fact that they make an effort for _you_ is something _you_ should appreciate, not the other way around. You know what? The time I’ve spent with Charlie has been a _privilege_. She’s sweet, and smart, and I feel lucky that I get to be an adult figure in her life in _any_ capacity.”

She tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the bar to cover the two drinks she’d had, then left without another word, noticing the way the other patrons had watched her go. Cringing inwardly, she hoped nobody there would recognize her as Oliver’s assistant and do the math to connect her outburst to the press release just a few hours earlier.

It was only after she was back in the comfort of her own apartment, in flannelette pyjamas with a glass of red wine, that she allowed herself to analyze her reaction. She felt insulted, both on Charlie’s behalf _and_ on Oliver’s. She didn’t like that he implied Charlie was a burden and Oliver wasn’t worth the effort.

_Someday, he’s going to meet somebody who’ll love him for everything he is, and who’ll be a great mother for Charlie,_ she thought, with a hint of bitterness.

The sudden swooping in her stomach caught her by surprise, and her heart pounded in her chest, resounding in her ears. Jealousy was not something she was accustomed to, but she had a whole flood of it for some faceless woman who may not ever end up becoming reality.

The introduction of Charlie into their lives had changed their relationship – she had never before seen Oliver so unsure of himself, so afraid to fail. That new vulnerability, as well as Charlie’s attachment to Felicity, was just warping her perspective.

Somewhere deep down she knew that before, the idea of Oliver with a wife and family had seemed so far off, and her close bond with him had never been threatened. _You’re just worried about your friendship_ , she told herself sternly. _Anything more could get you fired, or worse, you could mess things up and hurt Charlie_.

Resolving to back off a little until her pesky feelings were under control, she sipped her wine and immersed herself in a cheesy rom-com for the rest of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Just want to start off by clarifying that I'm not familiar with the American education system, so if none of that made sense at all, please don't come after me with pitchforks and torches.]
> 
> I'm sorry that updates are slow at the moment; please forgive me because university and my job and parenting my canine children are kicking my butt (it doesn't help that the only nights I get an urge to write are nights I should be doing other things or waking up in four hours to go to work, like tonight, for instance). I hope you're all having a wonderful weekend!


	5. The River Has Run Wild

**There's trouble in the heartland**  
 **You're drifting your own way**  
 **There’s trouble, it's a wasteland  
** **There's something you don't say**

If there were a word to describe Oliver’s relationship with Quentin Lance, it would be _complicated_.

Lance had always been convinced Oliver was a bad influence on his precious daughter, and had taken great pride in any misdemeanor he could pin on him, despite the fact that Oliver’s wealthy father had ensured nothing would stick.

When Laurel had continued to spiral, however, her father had tried everything in his power, including reaching out to Oliver, to get her back on track. They’d agreed to put aside their differences for her benefit.

A few months after she disappeared, Lance had given up the search. He hadn’t known about the pregnancy at the time – she’d only told Sara and Oliver, but he’d found out later. He’d tried to move on, going right back to ignoring the Queens and throwing himself into his cases, but every time the phone rang, he feared it would be the news he was dreading.

“Detective,” Oliver murmured in surprise when he answered the door. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Lance said, gruffly. “Is the kid asleep?”

Oliver nodded, gesturing for Lance to follow him into the living room. “Any news?”

“Nothing. Sara’s gone to Central City to ask around, see if any of her college friends have heard from her.”

“They won’t have,” Oliver said. “It’s just like last time. She’s in the wind until she wants to be found.”

Lance studied him, closely. “I know you and I have never seen eye to eye when it comes to my daughters, but you really didn’t know, did you?”

“No, she never told me.”

“Me, neither. I would have… I didn’t think I’d be a grandfather so soon.”

They remained silent for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the old house settling around them.

“The kid…”

“Charlie,” Oliver supplied.

“Charlie… is she, you know, okay?”

Oliver could hear the unasked question in the detective’s tone – if he’d done a good enough job raising Laurel for her to be a decent parent. He knew that the majority of Lance’s anger had been derived from his feelings of failure, guilt, and helplessness in letting Laurel become the way that she was.

“She’s a good kid, smart, polite, but very shy. Lonely, too; I know Laurel left her from time to time, and they were always on the move. But after everything she’s been through, she’s turned out okay.”

Lance nodded, looking relieved.

“Laurel tried her best,” Oliver finished.

“That’s good; that’s really… good. I, uh, someday I could come back, maybe meet her?”

“Of course, Detective. Sara, too, whenever she gets back to Starling.”

The only other words they exchanged were brief murmurs of farewell, and Oliver headed back to his study despite the late hour, determined to get as much work done as he could before the morning.

* * *

 

Charlie had been excited to find out that Dig was going to be watching her for the day while Oliver headed into QC. When he left, she’d been demanding that Dig play the game she called ‘Supergirl’, meaning that he would lift her into the air and spin her around while she giggled and sang a theme song of her own invention.

There was a small crowd of journalists at the entrance to the building, but he swiftly changed course and took the side entrance to avoid them. He’d almost forgotten about the press release, but he shot a quick, unnecessary text to Diggle to remind him to be on alert today in case the paparazzi showed up at the house.

Felicity looked up in surprise when he breezed past her desk, and she jumped to her feet and followed him into his office.

“What are you doing here?”

“Working,” he said, blinking at her in confusion.

“I emailed your itinerary for the week, didn’t I? You’re not needed today.”

“There’s that meeting with UNIDAC Industries coming up; I worked on the proposal all night-”

“I can see that,” she cut him off, but she held up a finger and hit the button on her headset as a call came through. “Mr. Queen’s office? No, he’s not available to make a statement at this time. Please save yourself the trouble and don’t call again.”

“Let me guess, the Starling Daily?” Oliver asked, dryly.

“No, they called an hour ago. That was Gloss Magazine. I’ve been fielding calls all morning. First the Post, then the Star Herald, and the woman _insisted_ that she would pay any amount of money for the scoop and wanted to know if I, Oliver’s _secretary_ , had any inside details, and I told her-”

“All morning? It’s not even nine yet, Felicity.”

She shrugged. “I got here at six.”

“Why?”

“The UNIDAC proposal, same as you. Where’s Charlie?”

“At the house, with Diggle. You mean to tell me you’re working overtime doing _my_ job so I can have time off?”

She didn’t even bother answering, simply answering her headset again and snapping at a reporter on the other end, and Oliver wondered how he’d gotten so lucky to have an employee like her.

With the amount of work they’d both already done, he was finished with his proposal just after lunch, and as hard as he looked, he couldn’t find much else to do to kill time before he had to go home.

“Go and get some sleep, Oliver; you look awful,” Felicity told him bluntly as he stopped by her desk.

“As always, I appreciate your honesty. Are you still coming over?”

The change in her was almost imperceptible, and if he didn’t know her so well he would have missed it. “Coming over?” She didn’t quite meet his eyes, and she shifted a little in her seat, attempting to disguise it by crossing one leg over the other.

“You promised Charlie you would,” he frowned.

“Oh, right. Yes, sure, I’ll be there around five-thirty.”

He gave her a playful smile. “I think your boss would let you go now if you asked nicely…” His attempt at a joke fell flat as she deliberately focused on something on her computer screen.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve got some stuff to finish up here.”

“Like what?” he challenged, but she didn’t answer him, instead hitting a button on her headset to take a call. “Mr. Queen’s office? Yes, let me grab a pen…”

She waved him off, and perplexed, he headed down in the elevator, wondering what the hell had gotten into her.

* * *

 

It was only when he arrived home that he realized.

“She’s sick of Charlie,” he murmured.

“What did you say?” Diggle asked, appearing in the hallway.

“Nothing.” It all made sense. His perfect, professional assistant had just been doing her job this whole time, and while he’d come to lean on her, she didn’t know how to tell him that she didn’t want anything more to do with his kid.

“Uncle Dig!” Charlie sang as she ran into the room. “Up, up!”

With a mock groan, Diggle bent down and swept Charlie up on his shoulders. She giggled as he stood again, his hands on her legs to keep her from toppling.

“Hi, kid,” Oliver greeted tiredly, and she simply waved at him.

“Do you want me to stick around a while so you can have a sleep?” Diggle offered. “You look like you could use it.”

Oliver nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Dig.”

“Dig is a silly name,” Charlie remarked.

Diggle growled, bouncing on his toes until Charlie shrieked with delight. “Why do you think that?”

She was laughing too much to get an answer out, and Oliver half-smiled at the infectious sound before heading upstairs.

Sleep came quickly for him, but it was restless and full of nightmares. When he woke, Dig informed him that Charlotte was reading in the library again, so he left her alone to finish up her medical paperwork.

“Oliver?”

He glanced up at Charlie’s voice, trying to smile when he saw her standing shyly in the doorway.

“What’s up?”

“I’m hungry. May I have something to eat?”

As always, her impeccable manners impressed him. “Sure. What do you feel like?”

He fixed her a ham and cheese sandwich, and just as he was done washing up, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Charlie said, sliding off her chair and still chewing as she ran to the door. “Felicity!”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Oliver was surprised to see her, having expected her to make some excuse for not being able to make it, and he was even more surprised to see her holding Charlie tightly with a big smile on her face. When Felicity saw him, though, the smile dropped, and she set Charlie down.

“Can you give me a second to talk to Oliver?” Felicity asked, and Charlie nodded, obediently running back to the kitchen.

They stared at each other for a moment, neither knowing how to start.

“Look, I-” he began.

“I’m sorry I was so weird earlier,” she said quickly.

“It’s fine,” he told her. “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. And it’s completely fine.”

“It is?”

“Yes, so if you want to go…”

She stared at him blankly. “I don’t think we’re on the same page here.”

Oliver bit his lip. “You don’t want to spend any time with Charlie.”

There was a pause. “What?”

“You were just doing your job, but I know you didn’t sign up to be a babysitter, or to… I don’t know, co-parent with me. I understand.”

Felicity reached out, grabbing his forearms beseechingly. “No! No, Oliver, that’s not it at all.”

“Felicity…”

“I _love_ Charlie,” she said softly. “I do. I like spending time with her.”

He could read the honesty in her gaze, and he was so relieved, he pulled her into a hug.

“Thank god,” he murmured. “I had no idea how I would do any of this without you.”

She tensed for a second in his arms, and it was enough for him to step back and look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m, nothing. Just tired, that’s all.”

He wanted to push her further, and find out why she’d behaved so strangely at the office earlier, but Charlie reappeared, looking upset.

“My tooth hurts!” she whimpered, and Felicity bent in front of her in concern.

“Show me where, darling,” she said, gently.

“I was eating and then I felt it go kerr- _ack_ and it hurts!” Charlie pointed with her finger, sniffling and wiping at her eyes.

Oliver stood back and watched as Felicity checked her over.

“It’s okay, Charlie, it’s just loose! It means your little teeth are moving to make room for your big, grown-up teeth, and then it will fall out and the new one will grow.”

“Fall out?” Charlie asked, anguished.

“Yes, but it’s fine, it shouldn’t hurt too much and then you can leave it under your pillow and the Tooth Fairy will take it.”

“A _fairy_? A real one?”

Felicity grinned at her. “Yep. She’ll come in the night when you’re asleep and leave you money under your pillow instead.”

“Wow!” Charlie had stopped crying, and was wiggling her loose tooth with her fingers. “Will it fall out today?”

“Probably,” Oliver murmured. “Just leave it for now, and we’ll see, okay?”

“Okay. Maybe when Mommy gets back, I can tell her about my grown-up teeth.”

She trotted upstairs, oblivious to the look being exchanged behind her. She hadn’t mentioned Laurel once since arriving in the Queen household, and Oliver had thought he’d dodged that bullet – no such luck.

“She never said… I thought she just understood, instinctively, that Laurel wasn’t coming back,” Oliver said.

“You’re going to have to explain it to her, sooner rather than later,” Felicity pointed out. “Before she gets old enough to be angry rather than sad about it.”

“But-”

“Oliver!” Felicity’s voice was hushed, but insistent. “I’ve been there, okay? My dad left my mom and me when I was seven. I spent years believing he would come back, and she never set me straight. It would have been better if I’d known, I promise you. Maybe my mother and I would still be on speaking terms if I had.”

He stared at her, a faraway sadness in his eyes, and she dropped her gaze, faintly embarrassed. In the years they’d been friends, she’d never shared any stories of her parents with him, and he had known better than to ask.

“It’s different for you,” she whispered, brokenly. “Your dad died, and that’s tragic, but at least you’re not left wondering if he’ll show up or if he moved to Australia or if he remarried and had other kids that you might pass on the street one day. You can’t let her believe that Laurel will come back and everything will return to normal, Oliver.”

He gritted his teeth, glancing up toward where Charlie had disappeared. “Come with me,” he said to Felicity.

“Oliver, no…”

“Please. You don’t have to say anything. I would… Charlie would feel better with you there.”

Felicity knew she didn’t have the willpower to say no, so she just nodded and followed Oliver to the library.

“My tooth is really loose!” Charlie exclaimed when she saw them.

“That’s great, kid,” Oliver said. “Do you think we could talk about something important for a minute?”

“Okay,” she replied, uncertainly.

“It’s about your mom.”

“Is she here?”

“No, she isn’t. Charlie,” Oliver took a deep breath. “I don’t think your mom is going to come back.”

She absorbed this for a moment, her expression neutral. “Why?”

“She’s really sick-”

“I know. Felicity told me the doctors can’t fix it with medicine.”

“She was right,” Oliver confirmed, looking at his assistant out of the corner of his eye. “You remember the lady at the hospital, Joanna? It’s her job to make sure kids like you are safe and happy.”

“Kids like me?”

“Kids with parents who are sick, like your mom.”

“Okay…”

Oliver glanced pleadingly at Felicity, and she sighed.

“What Oliver is trying to tell you is that your mom left because she knew she couldn’t look after you, that somebody like Joanna would get worried and take you away.”

“But she’ll get better, right?”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

Charlie’s eyes filled with tears, and Felicity looked away as her own followed suit. Oliver stood helplessly between them, not knowing what to do or say.

“Charlie…”

Ignoring Felicity’s outstretched arms, Charlie jumped to her feet and ran past them. They heard the sound of her bedroom door slamming, and Felicity flinched as if the sound physically hurt her.

“That went about as well as could be expected,” Oliver said, but when he glanced at Felicity, she avoided his eyes.

“I should go. She probably wants to be alone right now.”

“Felicity…”

“No, Oliver. I can’t stay.” She held up a hand as he reached for her. “Just… trust me.”

Speechless, he watched her leave, wondering what he’d done to make her so afraid of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know; I'm sorry! Would you believe my main issue with posting this chapter was finding a suitable song and lyrics to go with it? The other thing was that it's very dialogue-heavy, but I couldn't find a way around that, so I hope it was bearable. Anyway, in just a few weeks my university year will be coming to an end and I'll finally have the time to write and make gifs for this fandom to my heart's content. Hope you enjoyed this; your feedback is much appreciated.


	6. Rainy Zurich

**Maybe I’ll find you,**  
 **Maybe I won’t,**  
 **Baby I’ll try to,  
** **Even if I don’t,**

**You are what I never knew I needed,**  
 **What I never knew I needed,**  
 **What I never knew I needed,  
** **Almost there**

_Little is known about the newest member of the Queen family, whose sudden appearance this week has had our readers reeling. Here at Gloss, however, we have an exclusive inside source that could shed some light on the matter._

_“She’s a little angel,” our source says of the tiny heir, who was reportedly spotted out and about with an unnamed blonde woman, just days prior to the announcement. When asked about this, our source confirms our speculation. “Yes, she’s definitely the mother. A QC employee, for sure.” Unfortunately, no staff member at Queen Consolidated was available for comment._

Oliver tossed the magazine aside in disgust, not even bothering to read the rest of the article. The reporters were vultures, and it took a full security detail around his property to make sure they weren’t camped out waiting to see who came and went from the Queen manor.

Clearly, some lowlife with something to prove had seen Felicity and Charlie during their shopping spree and started rumors when the news about Oliver’s secret child broke days later. It was just unfortunate that they held any truth, at least to the point that Charlie _was_ his daughter.

He hoped Felicity wouldn’t freak out if she heard. She’d been acting strangely around him, and after she’d fled the house the night before, he was more mystified than ever. She had assured him Charlie wasn’t the problem, so was he then supposed to assume it was himself? What could he possibly have done to completely decimate the easy rapport they’d had with each other for so many years?

There had never been awkwardness between them; it was one of the many reasons he’d known he needed her by his side at the company. She’d never been afraid to tell him what she thought, or challenge him when she believed he was wrong. Even in their personal lives, she hadn’t hesitated to tell him he was being a jerk to his ex, McKenna, or that he’d pissed her off when he’d forgotten his promise to marathon the _Harry Potter_ movies with her for her birthday.

Then there was her complete digital silence, a feat in itself. He was accustomed to waking up to numerous emails and texts from her, ranging from work-related to videos of puppies learning to bark. She was never more than five feet from her tablet at any given time, so the fact that the only message he’d sent her the night before had been ignored told him that something was very, very wrong.

The doorbell rang, and for a moment he brightened, thinking it would be his assistant with a tray of coffees and an apology for her strange behavior. He was disappointed, however, when Joanna greeted him brusquely and swept past him into the foyer.

“I’m here for a routine inspection, just to make sure everything’s in order and Charlotte is doing well. That okay, Mr. Queen?”

“Oliver, please.”

Joanna inclined her head once in acknowledgment. “Great. Now, I understand you’ve installed the required fence around the pool area…”

As far as he could tell, he’d passed the inspection. Joanna made a couple of notes on her clipboard, but seemed impressed with the attention to detail he’d paid when childproofing the house.

“There’s just one last thing,” she said when their tour was over. “I need to speak to Charlotte.”

“Uh, sure,” Oliver said, hesitating. “She’s in the library; follow me.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Joanna smiled, tightly. “You can wait downstairs; it won’t take long.”

He paced the kitchen, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his anxiety tamped down. He still hadn’t properly spoken to Charlie since the episode yesterday, only seeing her when she came downstairs to eat. If she told Joanna she was upset, she might get taken away from him, and the very idea of it was so daunting it froze him to his very core.

He hadn’t realized how much she meant to him until he was faced with the prospect of a future without her.

It only took a few minutes before Joanna reappeared at the foot of the staircase, wearing a much softer smile than she had been.

“She’s a sweet girl, Oliver. You’re very lucky,” Joanna told him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll be in touch with her school once she starts, but everything seems to be going just fine.”

“Thank you,” he said as she left, pausing with his palm flat against the door and gazing at the carpet as he slowly exhaled. He wished he could know what Charlie had said, but he was just relieved whatever it was hadn’t convinced Joanna he was an unfit parent.

He wasn’t sure what had scared him more – the thought of Charlie’s removal from his custody, or the realization of just how attached to her he'd become in such a short space of time.

* * *

“Hey, sweetheart, how are you?”

Charlie glanced up and smiled as Felicity stuck her head in the door, but she said nothing and went back to her artwork.

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you about yesterday, and make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” Charlie said, simply.

Felicity frowned, and sat down on the floor beside her, crossing her legs. “What’s that you’re drawing?”

“The house. That’s me,” she said, pointing. “And there’s Oliver and you.”

“You’re a great artist, Charlie,” Felicity smiled, burying the pang she felt in her chest at the depiction of she and Oliver holding hands.

“Thank you.” Charlie picked up the yellow crayon and started intently drawing a big sun. “I lost my tooth last night.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. The Tooth Fairy left me five dollars.”

“Wow. What are you going to buy?”

Charlie shrugged and continued coloring.

“Do you remember when you asked me to be your best friend?” Felicity asked, and Charlie nodded silently. “Well, best friends are always honest with each other. You can tell me the truth when you’re feeling sad, no matter what.”

“Okay.”

“Do you miss your mom?”

“Yes,” Charlie answered, flatly.

“Is that why you’re sad?”

“No.” She paused for a moment, picking up a purple crayon to draw a flower. “I like living here,” she admitted, quietly.

“Then why are you unhappy?”

“Mommy left. _Forever_.”

Felicity put her arm around Charlie’s shoulders, and the little girl turned towards her for comfort.

“I didn’t want Mommy to come back because I’d have to go with her, and I like living here.”

“And now she’s not coming back, and you feel guilty,” Felicity finished with a sigh, rubbing Charlie’s back. “It’s okay, Charlie. You don’t have to feel bad about being happy.”

Charlie nodded.

“It’s really great that you like it here. That is the most important thing, okay?”

Charlie went back to her drawing for a few minutes, before glancing up again and biting her lip. “Can I really tell you anything?”

“Of course you can.”

“I wish Oliver was like you.”

Felicity was startled. “What do you mean?”

“You color with me, and take me shopping. And Uncle Dig likes to play games. Oliver is always too busy.”

Felicity’s heart felt like it would burst. Charlie was too young to understand that she’d been thrown into Oliver’s life at the wrong time, that he didn’t know how to deal with it. All she saw was a father who didn’t want to spend any time with her, and a mother who had run away.

“I’ll tell you what: it’s your birthday soon, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I promise that Oliver will spend your whole birthday with you. Would you like that?”

“Will you be there, too?” Charlie asked, hopefully, and Felicity melted.

“Sure. We’ll do something special, and it will be the best birthday ever.”

Charlie jumped on her, hugging her tightly, and Felicity gently stroked her hair.

That was how Oliver walked in on them a few moments later, and he sighed, wishing he didn’t have to interrupt. “It’s time for your nap, kid.”

Charlie pouted. “I don’t want to.”

“Come on-“

“No!”

“Charlie…”

“ _No!_ ”

Oliver hesitated, ready to give up. It was the first time Charlie had ever raised her voice and outright refused to do something, and he was at a loss.

“Sweetheart,” Felicity jumped in, her tone soothing, “you’re going to be really tired later if you don’t have a rest now.”

“But _you’re_ here,” Charlie whined. “I want to color with you.”

“I’ll tell you what: I’ll sit with you until you fall asleep, okay?”

Charlie’s wounded expression disappeared and she bounced happily to her feet. “Okay!”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Felicity promised. “Why don’t you choose a story for me to read to you?”

Charlie nodded, and Felicity took it as her cue to drag Oliver out of the room and down to his office, where they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Felicity, thank-“

“Listen up, Oliver,” she began, her voice filled with venom as she whirled on him. “You are a _father_ now. I know that you’re scared, but your daughter needs you to step up and be her _parent_. It’s not going to be all smooth sailing – she’s going to test you, like she did just now, and it’s probably only going to get worse. It’s time for you to stop relying on other people to do the parenting _for_ you.”

Oliver gaped at her in shock.

“She’s five years old, but don’t think it’s escaped her notice that you have barely spent any real time with her since she’s been here. She _knows_. All she wants is for you to give her a few hours of your undivided attention. So put your CEO hat aside and just be her dad for once.”

He collapsed into his chair, his head in his hands. “I _want_ to be a good father.”

“Then try harder. _Show_ her. It’s her birthday next week, right?”

He nodded. “Saturday.”

“I promised you – we – would spend the whole day with her. Don’t make me a liar.” She waved a finger at him menacingly, but most of her anger had gone, and the familiar spark was back in her eyes.

“I don’t know how to be what she needs.”

“Nobody expects you to know straight away,” Felicity assured him, softening. “This is the first step. Learn about her; show her that you care. Think about it. When you were growing up, did you listen to your parents all the time?”

“No, not really.”

“But I bet you listened to your nanny, right?”

Oliver smiled slightly. “Raisa, our housekeeper.”

“It’s the same thing. She’ll respect you when you earn it by being her dad. Everything else will come along with that; you just have to keep trying.”

He nodded, slowly, and Thea’s words about their childhood came back to him. Felicity was right, as always.

“When did you get so smart?” he asked her, and she shrugged.

“I’ve been reading a few parenting articles here and there. Not because I consider myself her parent. I mean, that’d be ridiculous, right? I didn’t want to intrude. I just wanted to help, and there was this really interesting paper about kids with troubled upbringings, not that Charlie is troubled; she’s very resilient, actually…” she cut herself off, flushing. When they’d first met, she’d had a bad habit of babbling around him, but she thought she was past that when they’d become close friends.

He didn’t seem fazed, instead standing up and placing his hands on her shoulders so she was forced to look him in the eye.

“Thank you,” he said, sincerely. “I needed that. You’ve always kept me on the right track. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without you.”

She swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close they were standing to one another. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably in some sort of jail cell for one reason or another,” she said, lightly.

He didn’t acknowledge her attempt at humor, instead closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against hers. She allowed her own eyes to shut, feeling his gratitude wash through her, warming her right to the tips of her fingers and toes.

She pulled away after a moment, worried that somehow he would be able to tell just how much she’d enjoyed it. Her confusing feelings were not getting any easier to sort out, nor were they fading.

“Your daughter is waiting for me,” she said by way of explanation.

Oliver hesitated. “Do you think I should read to her, instead?”

Felicity beamed at him. “I think I’ve got it covered this time, but maybe later, when she goes to bed? Ask her what her favorite book is, and read some of it to her every night. It’s a good way to learn more about her.”

Before she could overthink it, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and his skin tingled where her lips brushed him.

If she’d glanced back as she left the room, she would have seen him standing slack-jawed, gazing after her with a wondering expression on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicity Smoak pro-tip: videos of puppies learning to bark fix EVERYTHING. 
> 
> I can't believe this story is almost at 200 kudos - there are 200 people out there in the world somewhere that think my ramblings are worth that praise, and that's just CRAZY. This chapter came early because of that, and also the great response I got for the last chapter; you guys are amazing. 
> 
> As much as I would like to update this frequently, I'm writing very slowly at the moment and am now only two and a bit chapters ahead. I'll update again once I've had a chance to write more than a couple of hundred words at a time. I have a feeling you're all going to like the next chapter, so I hope it's worth the wait. Thanks again, you wonderful people!


	7. The Writer

**Oh, I try out a smile**  
 **And I aim it at you**  
 **Oh, you must have missed it  
** **You always do**

“Sara, I think I’m going crazy.”

It was Friday night, and Felicity was curled in her bed in her comfiest sweats with a giant bowl of mac and cheese, her emotional eating go-to. It had been a long week: the UNIDAC proposal had gone off without a hitch on Monday, but they’d been tied up trying to finalize the deal, as well as keep all their other projects on schedule. Then, on Thursday, Charlie had come home from school crying and complaining of a sore stomach, although the doctor had found nothing wrong. It had stressed Oliver out so much that he’d actually shouted at someone in the accounting department, and Felicity had had to force him to apologize and take a break to calm down.

To top it all off, she was beginning to notice Oliver – _really_ notice him. She was hyper-aware of his every move, she was babbling uncontrollably around him, and she’d even found herself trying to choose her outfits in the morning based on how much she thought he would like them.

In search of reassurance and hopefully some rational explanation for her behavior, she’d called her friend, who was currently laughing too hard to even get a word out.

“Shut up! It isn’t funny!”

“It is!” Sara gasped, and Felicity could almost see her wiping the tears from her eyes. “You told him off for doing push-ups in his office?”

“There are glass walls!” Felicity protested. “He was shirtless, and sweating, and I couldn’t think straight.”

Sara dissolved into another fit of laughter. “I can just imagine his face. He is so completely oblivious to how he affects the women around him.”

Oliver and Sara had briefly dated a couple of years previously, and an unfortunate set of circumstances had resulted in Felicity walking in on Sara stark naked in the executive bathroom one Tuesday morning. After Felicity’s initial embarrassment had worn off, Oliver had awkwardly introduced the two, and they’d been firm friends ever since.

Sara and Oliver’s relationship was short-lived, but they remained close and the three of them often hung out together, usually rounded out by Sara’s current girlfriend, Nyssa. There had been a few months where Sara had tried to play matchmaker, but she’d backed off after Oliver met McKenna Hall. Felicity frowned to herself, trying to push thoughts of the inhumanly gorgeous police officer out of her head.

“You’re supposed to be telling me what to do.”

“Oh, I know what to do-”

“ _Besides_ that!”

Sara snorted, then started giggling again.

“I have to spend the _whole_ day tomorrow just with him and Charlie,” Felicity whined.

“Aw, what a cute date,” Sara cooed.

“I’m being serious. I can’t mess this up.”

“What makes you think you will?”

Felicity sighed in response.

“Look, when was the last time you were in a relationship? And don’t count that Barry kid that you didn’t even _sleep_ with,” Sara added, scathingly.

“It’s been a while. Do you think that’s the problem? That I’m projecting my need for a relationship onto Oliver?”

“Not at all. I think the problem is that you’re in love with him and you’re only just beginning to realize just how far gone you are.”

Felicity sucked in her breath through her teeth, sitting up and setting her forgotten dinner aside.

“My point is that you and Oliver have this… I don’t know how to describe it, a connection, an understanding. You guys don’t see it, but it’s so blatantly obvious to the rest of the world that you will only ever have eyes for each other.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Oliver doesn’t think of me like that.”

“Felicity, for the smartest person I know, you sure can be obtuse when it comes to Oliver Queen.”

She changed the topic then, asking how Central City and the search for Laurel was going.

“There’s no sign of her anywhere. I’ve been visiting my mom while I’m here, but I’ll probably head home this weekend.”

“Well, can’t say you didn’t try.”

“I’d really like to meet my niece,” Sara said quietly, “if it’s okay with Ollie.”

“I’m sure it will be.”

They chatted a while longer, then Felicity realized she should probably get a good night’s sleep in preparation for the next day.

“Have fun, okay? Don’t overthink it, and just be your normal self.”

“Pray for me,” Felicity said, dryly.

“If he kisses you, you owe me twenty bucks.”

Felicity ignored her friend’s teasing and hung up the call, tossing her phone aside and falling back onto her pillows with a groan.

Covering her face with her hands, she cursed her heart for betraying her.

* * *

 

When Oliver opened the door, Felicity couldn’t help but burst out laughing. His face was covered in glittery purple eye shadow, and there was lipstick smeared around, not on, his lips.

“It’s her birthday,” he deadpanned, and on cue, a tiny whirlwind in a pale blue tutu came flying into her arms, almost making her drop the present she was carrying.

“Felicity! Oliver made chocolate pancakes!”

“He did?” Felicity beamed.

Charlie grinned, and it was evident that she, too, had been assaulted by a tube of bubblegum-pink lipstick. “And he let me do his makeup.”

“I can see that.”

“I’m not going out like this,” he warned, under his breath.

“Happy birthday, darling,” Felicity said, holding out the silver box. Charlie squealed, dropping to the floor right there in the hallway to open it as Felicity closed the door behind her.

Slipping a makeup wipe out of her purse while Charlie was distracted, Felicity quickly cleaned the offending gunk off Oliver’s face.

“Wow, new books! And… oh! She’s pretty!”

“You want to know something special? She used to belong to me,” Felicity explained, smiling as Charlie carefully turned the porcelain doll over in her hands. “My grandmother gave her to me when I was your age.”

“I promise I’ll take really good care of her. What’s her name?”

“Alice.”

Charlie beamed. “Like _Alice in Wonderland_?”

“Exactly. And there’s one more thing in there, too.”

Charlie dug through the tissue paper, finding a small velvet box. Inside, there was a tiny white-gold bracelet with little butterflies between the links. Felicity glanced uncertainly at Oliver.

“Is it too much?” she whispered, but he just shook his head, his face unreadable.

“Thank you, thank you!” Charlie exclaimed, holding out her wrist so Oliver could fasten the bracelet.

“You’re welcome. Do you want me to finish your makeup for you?”

Charlie nodded. “Aunt Thea bought it for me!”

“Okay, we’ll let Oliver finish cleaning up, and you can show me.”

Within twenty minutes, Charlie was back to looking presentable again, and was busy rattling off her list of presents as they clattered down the stairs.

“And Nana – she said to call her Nana – she gave me this tutu, because I said I like Elsa, and it’s blue like Elsa’s dress. And Uncle Dig gave me a _big_ teddy bear, because I said he is like a teddy bear.”

“What about Oliver? What did he give you?”

Charlotte frowned. “He said it’s a surprise.”

“Well, here’s part one,” Oliver said, appearing out of the kitchen with a small pink box.

“A crown!” Charlie sang, when she opened it.

“A tiara,” Felicity corrected, gently, setting it on top of Charlie’s curls. “Like a real princess.”

“Is there one for you, too?”

Felicity laughed and shook her head. “Not today, sweetheart. It’s _your_ day.”

“And it’s about to get better,” Oliver said, swinging the front door open again just in time to see a carriage drawn by two black horses stop in the driveway.

“Wow!” Charlie stared in amazement.

“Like Felicity said, it’s your day, princess.”

Felicity shot him a sideways glance at his use of the endearment, and he smiled back at her.

“Do you think I nailed it?” he whispered conspiratorially.

“I’m just wondering how you’re planning to top this for every birthday from now on,” Felicity remarked, observing Charlie’s astounded expression.

Oliver just winked.

* * *

 

It definitely surpassed the promise of the best birthday ever. The carriage took them the long way around the city, and Charlie didn’t hesitate to point out every little thing as they passed. Diggle had been following them in the car, and when the time came to swap vehicles, Charlie had been disappointed to leave the horses behind. That was short-lived, however, when they pulled up at a carnival alongside the bay.

Evidently, it was Charlie’s first time at anything like it. Felicity took her on the swinging ship, but Oliver took her on the teacup ride and carousel because Felicity refused to ride anything that spun. Diggle won her a stuffed dolphin from the ring toss game, and they all enjoyed cotton candy while they watched some street artists perform.

Charlie _insisted_ that she wanted to go on the Ferris wheel, even when Oliver tried to tell her that it went too high and would scare her. So, the four of them lined up, right until the very last second where she declared that she _was_ too scared, but they should ride it anyway, seeing as they’d waited so long. Diggle had immediately jumped in, offering to take Charlie to get her face painted, and that was how Oliver and Felicity ended up high in the sky, overlooking Starling City.

“Do you think she planned this?” Felicity asked.

“Oh, she definitely planned this.”

They sat quietly for a while, admiring the view, before Oliver cleared his throat.

“I need to thank you, again.”

She just smiled, waving a hand at him dismissively, but he grabbed it, forcing her to look at him.

“I mean it. Everything you’ve done for her, for me. You didn’t have to do any of it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s _everything_ ,” he assured her, and she blushed.

When they got off the ride, Diggle was smiling knowingly and Charlie, complete with tiger makeup, was absolutely radiant.

It was three in the afternoon when Charlie started to wind down, her chatter slowing and the spring in her step gone. Oliver lifted her onto his shoulders as they walked back to the car, and by the time she was buckled in and they were ready to go, she was dropping off to sleep.

“You should spend some time with her later,” Felicity murmured. “Just the two of you. As much as she loves everything we’ve done today, that would be a real gift for her.”

Oliver nodded. “It’s all a little less overwhelming,” he admitted. “It feels like we’re starting to go somewhere, like we’re on the right path now.”

“It’ll only get better from here,” Felicity promised, and she smiled at the little girl beside her, brushing a stray curl off her face.

When they arrived back at the manor, Felicity said goodbye to a sleepy Charlie, kissed Dig on the cheek, and gave Oliver a little wave as she headed down the drive to her own car. Oliver watched her go, a strange feeling in his stomach, before carrying Charlie up to her room and tucking her into bed.

For once, he allowed himself to rest in the hour or so she spent asleep, instead of trying to get some work done. He felt relaxed when she woke up, and they began to read together, choosing one of the new books Felicity had bought. Oliver mostly let Charlie read, occasionally helping her with a tricky word or a silly voice for a character. He adored making her laugh.

After dinner, Thea insisted that they all watch a movie together. Charlie chose _Mary Poppins_ , and by the end of it, even Moira was tapping her feet along with the music and smiling.

“Is Felicity our Mary Poppins?” Charlie asked as Oliver tucked her in that night.

“What do you mean?”

“She came when we needed her help, and she made us happy.”

Oliver frowned, thoughtfully. “Maybe she is.”

“Does that mean she’ll leave when the wind changes?”

He looked at the worry in her face and shook his head, trying to reassure her. “No, of course not. Go to sleep, princess.” He kissed her hair, and she smiled contentedly, her eyes already closed.

Later, though, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to them if Felicity walked out of their lives – they’d be lost without her.

If the time ever came, he’d just have to do everything possible to convince her to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys, you never cease to amaze me with your encouragement after each update! I'm so sorry it's taken this long for me to get my act together. Hope this fluff-fest was worth the wait, before things start to get a little more complicated for our favourite makeshift family in the coming chapters. Are you all as excited as I am for 3x05 and flashback Felicity?


	8. Lay Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a terrible person, I know! I lost my way a little, but I've hopefully worked past that for now. Between the holiday season and preparations for my sister's wedding next month, I haven't had the chance to give this story the effort it deserves. You guys, though... you've been amazing with your feedback and the constant trickle of kudos, reminding me that this was here waiting for me. So thank you for inspiring me to get my ass into gear.

**Yes, I do, I believe**  
 **That one day I will be where I was**  
 **Right there, right next to you**  
 **And it's hard, the days just seem so dark  
** **The moon, the stars are nothing without you**

He awoke to the sound of crying, and stumbled down the hall toward Charlie’s bedroom, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. He’d thought they’d been making progress – they’d had such a great day and she hadn’t been able to stop smiling, so why was she crying now?

“Charlie?” Oliver pushed open the door and saw his little girl tossing and turning in her bed, clearly in the grip of a nightmare. “Charlie, wake up. It’s me; you’re fine. It’s just a dream.”

Her eyes flew open and he felt sick when she shrank back from him in fear.

“It’s me; it’s Oliver,” he repeated, softly, and after a beat she lunged forward and threw herself into his arms.

“It was… it was…” Charlie was sobbing too hard to get her words out.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, automatically smoothing a hand over her tangled hair.

She mumbled something into his shoulder, but the words were too muffled for him to understand.

“What?”

“I want Felicity,” she sniffled, leaning back to look at him. Her request ignited both anticipation and guilt within him – he knew Felicity would be happy to oblige, but it saddened him that he wasn’t enough to calm her down.

“Okay, I’ll call her.”

There was a noise in the doorway and Oliver looked up to see his sister holding out her cell. He took it, gratefully, and handed over the still-tearful six-year-old so Thea could keep talking to her.

“Thea? What’s wrong? Is Oliver okay?” Felicity’s voice was heavy with sleep but the note of panic was clear.

“No, no, it’s me,” he assured her, and he heard her let her breath out in a rush. “Charlie had a nightmare, and she’s asking for you. I hate to do this…”

“I’m already on my way,” she cut him off, and he heard her car door slam shut in the background. “I was halfway out the door as soon as I saw Thea’s caller ID at this time of night.”

“Thank you. I can’t even begin to-“

“Yes, yes, I know,” she said, amused. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Charlie looked about as relieved as Oliver felt, and by the time Felicity came flying up the stairs in her purple pyjamas – a shirt which read _You’ve cat to be kitten me_ and flannelette pants covered in Scottish Folds – she’d calmed right down. It didn’t, however, stop her from jumping into Felicity’s arms and hugging her tightly.

“Cute PJs,” Oliver remarked, and Felicity blushed furiously.

“I didn’t take the time to change, okay?”

He didn’t voice it, but he could tell, from the messy curls to the fluffy pink slipper boots. Without her usual makeup, he could see the faint freckles that adorned her nose and cheekbones.

He also didn’t voice how he felt seeing her like this, trading amicable greetings with his sister and holding his child on her hip in the middle of the night.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Felicity murmured, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s hair. “I heard you had a bad dream. Want to talk about it?”

Charlie shook her head. The worst of the aftermath seemed to be over, and her eyelids were beginning to droop again.

“When I was your age and had a bad dream, my grandmother used to sing to me until I fell asleep again.”

“Will you sing for me?” Charlie asked hopefully.

Felicity glanced self-consciously at the other two adults in the room. Thea smirked, holding her hands up and backing out, but Oliver just looked at her, his face unreadable.

“Sure,” she agreed softly, sitting down on the bed and letting Charlie settle beside her with her head on Felicity’s stomach.

Oliver smiled to himself as Felicity began to sing quietly, a brief lullaby that seemed to be in Hebrew. She didn’t hit every note perfectly, which he thought was likely out of nerves more than anything else, but it did the trick, and Charlie was out cold by the time it ended.

They slipped out of her room together, and Felicity seemed to have trouble meeting his eyes.

“My gran was Jewish,” she said, by way of explanation. “She, uh, passed away when I was still young, but that song is kind of… my connection to her.”

“It was perfect,” he assured her. “I’m sure she’ll beg to have you sing to her every night.”

Felicity swallowed hard at the thought of spending nights at the Queen mansion singing lullabies to Oliver’s daughter, and her voice was noticeably higher when she spoke. “I guess I should be heading home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can stay here.”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, and I know Charlie would be disappointed to wake up and find you weren’t here in the morning.”

“Okay,” Felicity relented, “but I’m not sleeping with you.” It took a second for her sleepy brain to register what she’d said, and her mouth fell open, her cheeks blossoming red. “By _that_ , I mean I’m not sharing your bed. Not that I assumed I would, or even thought that was an option. God, I’m just making this _worse_.”

“Felicity, there are plenty of guest rooms in this house, and you may take whichever one you want.”

He showed her to the room beside Thea’s, and she sat awkwardly on the bed waiting for him to leave and smoothing her hand over the soft comforter.

“Today meant so much to Charlie, and none of it would have happened without you,” Oliver said.

“You know that isn’t true.”

“It is,” he insisted. “If you hadn’t forced me to get my head out of my paperwork and be a father, she wouldn’t have enjoyed today as much as she did.”

“She hasn’t had a lot growing up, Oliver. Sometimes girls just want simplicity. You didn’t have to do all that for her.”

“I wanted to.”

Felicity held her breath for a moment as she realized his piercing gaze was fixed on her, and wondered if she was imagining the double meaning behind his tone. She hadn’t intended to allude to herself, but her tired state and his presence were causing her brain-to-mouth filter to malfunction.

She finally exhaled when he turned to leave. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Felicity.”

It didn’t take long for the comfortable bed to carry her off to sleep, her grandmother’s lullaby still echoing in her mind.

That night, she dreamed of Oliver.

* * *

 

_Oh, Snap! spotted Oliver Queen and his daughter at the Starling Carnival, looking cozy with an unidentified woman. Is this the fabled baby-mama or a new flavor of the month?_

The photos the paparazzi had managed to catch were one where Charlie and Oliver were on the carousel, waving to Felicity as she stood by and watched, and one of Oliver and Felicity walking side by side with Charlie on Oliver’s shoulders. They were splashed across the gossip spread of _Gloss_ magazine, and there were little arrows beside the pictures indicating the brand, style name, and price of the floral dress and beige wedge sandals Felicity had worn.

Oliver frowned and tossed it aside as he sipped his coffee. He hadn’t noticed that they’d been followed, and he made a mental note to speak to Dig about future outings and protocols for avoiding the invasion of privacy.

The housekeeper had prepared a fruit platter for breakfast, and he thoughtfully chewed on a piece of watermelon as he reflected on the night’s events. The thought of Felicity asleep upstairs did strange things to his stomach, but he attributed that to his tiredness and tried to set it far from his mind.

A knock sounded at the front door, and he wondered who could possibly be paying them a visit at seven in the morning. Without considering his current lack of shirt, he swung open the door to find his other favorite petite blonde on his doorstep.

“Morning, Ollie,” Sara chirped, but she frowned as he made a hushing motion. “What?”

“Everybody else is still asleep,” he explained, and she lifted an eyebrow.

“Everybody?”

“My mother, Thea, Charlie, and Felicity.”

Sara’s jaw fell open. “I knew it! That _bitch_ , she told me nothing happened between you two yesterday…” she trailed off at the confused look on his face.

“You knew what?”

“Nothing. Is that coffee I smell?” Sara pushed past him into the kitchen, and he followed her in a daze.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, as she helped herself to a handful of grapes.

“I took the overnight bus from Central City and knew you’d already be up at this hour. I thought you’d appreciate the company, and maybe I could meet Charlie.”

Oliver nodded.

“Why is Felicity asleep upstairs?” Sara asked, trying and failing to sound disinterested.

“Charlie had a nightmare, and I called her for backup.”

“Oh,” Sara said, looking disappointed, and realization dawned on him.

“Did you think that… Felicity and I…?”

“Felicity and I what?” Felicity asked, breezing into the kitchen. “Sara, hey!”

The two friends hugged, and Felicity quickly made herself a cup of coffee before turning to look at them with a suspicious expression.

“Why were you two talking about me?”

“No reason,” Oliver and Sara said together, which just made Felicity frown.

“Am I missing something?”

“No, Sara’s just dropped in to say hi,” Oliver explained.

The three of them chatted for a while, and Oliver noticed how closely Sara was watching Felicity’s face and how pointedly she was being ignored. Felicity’s eyes then fell on the tabloid magazine, still open to the page bearing their photos. Before he could say anything, Thea appeared in the doorway with Charlie on her hip.

“Who forgot to invite us to the party?” Thea demanded.

“Good morning to you, too,” Oliver remarked, but instead of the smile he expected on his daughter’s face, he found her staring at Sara with an uncertain expression.

“You look like Mommy,” Charlie said, quietly.

“Charlie, this is Sara,” Felicity murmured. “She’s your mommy’s sister – your aunt.”

“Like Aunt Thea?”

“Yes,” Sara said. “It’s really nice to meet you, Charlie.”

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. “May I have some chocolate milk?” she asked, directing her question at Felicity.

Felicity glanced at Oliver, who nodded. “Sure, sweetheart.” She poured some into a glass and handed it to Charlie, who had taken a seat at the counter.

“So, Charlie, I hear you’re in school. What’s it like?” Sara asked.

Charlie sipped her milk and shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“Is your teacher nice?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you made lots of new friends?” Thea joined in.

Felicity saw Charlie’s expression and quickly jumped in. “It hasn’t been very long. I’m sure she’ll have a lot to talk about after a few more weeks.”

Sara and Thea began to chat, then, and Felicity volunteered to take Charlie upstairs to change, which Oliver gratefully accepted. Once in the familiarity of her own room, Charlie brightened considerably, selecting a white turtleneck and a pale blue pinafore with yellow flowers to wear for the day.

“Was it scary to meet your Aunt Sara?” Felicity asked sympathetically, while she braided Charlie’s hair.

“She’s nice, I guess.”

“She loves to play games. I think you’ll really like her, once you get to know her.”

Oliver checked on them on the way to his room, informing them he had some business phone calls to make that morning, and Felicity watched wistfully as he left. She couldn’t help thinking of the photos in the tabloids, putting her alongside Oliver and speculating about their relationship, which she was convinced would never come to fruition.

“Felicity?”

“Yeah?”

“You told me that best friends are _always_ honest with each other, no matter what.”

Felicity frowned, but nodded.

“You always look so sad. Did you and Oliver have a fight? You can tell me,” Charlie urged.

Felicity was briefly surprised, wondering how her feelings could be so obvious to a little girl, before she remembered just how perceptive and intelligent Charlie was. “No, we didn’t have a fight.”

“But he makes you sad?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “It’s complicated. Grown-up stuff.”

Charlie bit her lip. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Oh, Charlie!” Felicity exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I’ll never leave you, I promise.” And she knew she wouldn’t, not if she could help it. This girl of only six years old had been through hell, and she was worth fighting for.

“Okay,” Charlie murmured. “Will you help me paint my nails now?”

Felicity smiled. “Of course. What are best friends for?”


	9. This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry; I don't deserve wonderful readers like you guys! I had a destination wedding this weekend, and a week from today my own sister will be the one at the altar, and then of course there's Diggle and Lyla... so here's a vaguely angsty chapter to celebrate all that love. It's a little shorter than usual, but it felt natural to end it here. Thanks for all your feedback; it's the fuel that keeps my writing (typing?) fingers going!

**You are the earth that I will stand upon  
** **You are the words that I will sing**

Felicity waited nervously in the hard plastic chair, anxiously checking her phone every thirty seconds. She’d rushed out of the office while Oliver was in a board meeting, leaving him only a post-it note on his desk and a prayer that he wouldn’t freak out when he found it.

So far, her Wednesday had not been going well. The barista at Starbucks had recognized her from the _Gloss_ magazine article and had peppered her with questions about what Oliver Queen was like in bed. Then, she’d discovered that one of their interns had dropped the program and had to chase up all the necessary paperwork, only to be told that the board meeting was being moved up to today. Oliver under pressure was a succinct and borderline rude Oliver, so he’d been a little highly-strung before the meeting had begun.

Then, to top it all off, she got an urgent call from Charlie’s school. With Oliver unavailable, the responsibility was left up to her.

“Mrs. Queen?”

Felicity stood. “I’m, uh, Felicity Smoak. Charlotte’s father sent me to pick her up.”

“You’re on the approved list,” the secretary confirmed. “Do you have a moment to meet with the vice principal?”

“Of course,” Felicity agreed, nervously.

She walked into the office to see Charlie already seated, with her arms folded and a sullen expression on her face.

“Miss Smoak, is it?”

“Felicity, please.”

The vice principal shook her hand. “I’m Jana Washington. Please, have a seat.”

Felicity ran her hand reassuringly over Charlie’s hair before dropping into the chair beside her.

“We’re concerned about Charlotte’s behavior.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows. “You are?”

“Her standard of work is quite high, but she’s withdrawn and uncommunicative. We are concerned that she doesn’t seem to have made any connections with other students. There have been reports of her picking fights with her classmates.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Felicity protested.

“I’m sure it can all be properly explained, but she’s refusing to speak with us at this stage. We were hoping that you might have some idea of what’s going on,” Jana said.

Felicity shook her head. “No, but we’ll get to the bottom of this, I’m sure.” She barely gave a second thought to speaking for Oliver – she knew he’d be whole-heartedly behind her.

“Thank you, Felicity. Charlotte’s been excused from classes for the rest of the day.”

Charlie remained silent as they walked to the car, keeping her eyes downcast. Felicity waited, knowing it would only be worse if she pried, simply shifting the car into gear and heading for the mansion.

“Are you mad at me?” Charlie asked timidly.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Felicity sighed. “I’m worried. Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“If I tell you, will you tell Oliver?”

Felicity hesitated. “Only if I think it’s really important.”

Charlie thought about it for a moment, then took a deep breath. “The other kids are mean to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Oliver is always in the news. Their parents say bad things about him. They push me down. I scraped my elbow,” she admitted, pointing. “They call me a know-it-all, and they said my mommy left because she didn’t want me.”

Felicity pulled the car over as Charlie started to cry.

“You know that’s not true, right? Those kids don’t know your mommy, and they don’t know Oliver, either. Do you think Oliver is a bad person?”

Charlie sniffled and shook her head. “He makes me waffles when I ask him and he took us to the carnival.”

“Exactly. And I think you should tell him what you told me.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Felicity confirmed. “You can talk to him about anything, just like you can talk to me.”

“Okay.”

When they arrived back at the mansion, Oliver’s car was already in the driveway, and Charlie looked nervously at Felicity.

“Do you want me to stay while you talk to him?” Felicity guessed, and Charlie nodded.

Oliver’s face was dark with concern as he swept towards them.

“I got your message. What’s going on?”

Felicity glanced at Charlie for confirmation before answering. “Charlie’s been having some problems at school that she wants to tell you about.”

Oliver listened while Charlie explained, the worry clearing from his eyes but the darkness not leaving his expression.

“I’ll call the school tomorrow. Obviously, they aren’t paying enough attention to the way the _other_ students are behaving. It’s not your fault, Charlie,” he added, seeing the look on her face. “I’ll sort this out. Would you like me to find another school for you?”

Charlie shook her head, emphatically. “No, I like my teacher. She lets me read inside during playtime.”

“Okay. You know you can tell me any time somebody’s being mean to you, right? Or even Felicity,” he said, glancing at her with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“I know that now,” Charlie admitted.

“Good. Go get changed out of your uniform and play for a while. I’ll make us something to eat and then we can go to the park this afternoon, if you want.”

Felicity smiled approvingly as Charlie scurried upstairs. “You took the rest of the day off?”

“I needed it,” he said, moving towards her.

His proximity left her breathless as his piercing blue eyes searched hers. She almost stepped back before he grasped her hands in his, stopping her.

“What?” she asked.

“Felicity, you… I’m not good at this,” he sighed. “I don’t know how to… I wouldn’t be able to do this without you. I can’t…”

“Oliver,” she said, half-amused at his inability to form sentences. “Stammering is _my_ job. What are you–”

Felicity didn’t get a chance to finish as he leaned forward to capture her lips with his. His right hand lifted to cup her jaw, his left settling on her waist and pulling her into him as she placed her hands on his shoulders for balance. It was gentle, chaste, and as he slowly pulled away, she found herself wishing he would never stop kissing her.

As the blissful numbness drained from her mind, though, it was replaced by unwelcome doubt – why, why now? Was this just stemming from gratitude, twisted into seeming like something real?

She turned away from him so he couldn’t read the conflict in her eyes. He couldn’t know just how deep her feelings for him ran, and he couldn’t know how her heart could break if they let this get any further.

“I’m sorry,” she said, fighting to keep tremors out of her words.

“I kissed you,” Oliver said, confused. “Why are _you_ sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have let you. It’s not your fault,” she sighed. “It’s mine.”

“Felicity, look at me.”

“This has all been really rough for you,” she said, ignoring him. “I can see how my involvement with Charlie could be… misinterpreted.”

“Stop it,” he ordered, using a tone she could only describe as his _CEO voice_. “I know you, and I know what you’re doing. I won’t let you.”

He reached for her hand but she pulled away as if he’d burned her, clasping her hands together, with tears filling her eyes.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “I have to go.”

“Felicity…”

“Go be with your daughter,” she interrupted him, swallowing hard. “I- I’ll call you.”

Felicity fled the room without a backward glance, leaving a stunned Oliver in her wake. 

* * *

 

The sunshine was unseasonal but welcome as Oliver sat on the park bench and watched Charlie play. It was refreshing to see a smile on her face after the troubles of the day, and Oliver felt reassured that things would turn out fine.

Charlie called out to him, asking him to push her on the swing, her cheeks pink from the bite of the chilly breeze, and he obliged. She reminded him of Thea, the way she fearlessly begged him to send her higher.

Later, as they walked home, Oliver asked Charlie to tell him anything she wanted to.

“Be honest. Anything you’ve ever wanted to tell me, even if it’s bad.”

Charlie bit her lip. “I don’t like it when you shout on the phone.”

Oliver looked at her in surprise. “You can hear that when I’m in my study?”

She nodded.

“Sometimes I have to shout at grown-ups to make them listen to me. But if it upsets you, I’ll try to stop,” he promised. “What else?”

“I wish you didn’t make Felicity sad,” she admitted.

“I do, too,” he frowned. “But I’m working on fixing that. What did she say to you?” Charlie just gave him a look. “Okay, okay. Anything else?”

“I like the Batman books that some of the boys bring to class, but they said it’s not for girls.”

“That’s silly,” Oliver scoffed. “Both boys and girls can read, right?”

“That’s what I said.”

“I’ll buy you some comics next time I go to the bookstore,” he promised. “Don’t ever believe that you can or can’t do something just because you’re a girl, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, and fell silent.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” he asked.

“Yeah… my mommy isn’t coming back.” She scuffed her foot once along the driveway, kicking at a stone.

“I know that, princess,” Oliver said, confused.

“I like living with you. I don’t want Joanna to take me away.”

They arrived at the front porch, and Oliver turned to her, his heart in his throat.

“That’s good,” he said, picking her up and balancing her on his hip. “Because I like having you here, too.”

Charlie beamed at him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and tucking her head in the curve of his neck.

For the first time since she’d been tossed into his life, Oliver recognized the swelling, breathless feeling in his chest as love for his daughter, real and enduring.

As long as he had that, he knew everything else would fall into place.


	10. Chasing Cars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE OF MY STORIES WAS RECOMMENDED ON THEOLICITYLIBRARY AND THIS STORY HIT FIVE HUNDRED KUDOS; THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE SO HERE HAVE A SURPRISE EARLY CHAPTER AND THANK YOU FOR BEING AMAZING!!!

**I need your grace**  
**To remind me  
** **To find my own** ****  


**If I lay here**  
**If I just lay here  
** **Would you lie with me and just forget the world?**

Charlie’s newfound obsession with Batman continued on into the weekend, where Oliver found her playing with her new action figure and her dollhouse, forcing Batman to make cups of tea for the other toys’ tea party.

“Want to go to the mall?” Oliver asked, holding back his laughter.

“Yes!” Charlie exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

“Grab your coat and boots,” he warned. “It’s still cold outside.”

They visited the bookstore first, where Charlie chose another comic book and a collection of stories by Enid Blyton. She shyly offered the sales assistant her five dollars from the tooth fairy, and Oliver paid the rest with a grin.

“Sweet girl you’ve got there,” the woman said, warmly. He just smiled proudly in answer.

They bought frozen yoghurt in the food court, and then headed to the department store to pick out some more clothing. Oliver was getting better at knowing which outfits to choose, and between the two of them, they managed a good haul.

Oliver paid at the register while Charlie admired a stand of beautiful jewelry.

“Come on,” he called to her, and she scuttled toward him. He held out his hand to her, but just as she passed through the security gates, the sensor went off with an obnoxiously loud beep.

Charlie jumped, her eyes wide in fear, and the door greeter approached them.

“It’s okay,” Oliver said, speaking to both of them. “They probably just missed a tag in the clothing.”

The sensor beeped again, and by now all the shoppers in the vicinity were looking at them curiously. Charlie’s cheeks burned red, and Oliver frowned at her, noticing the way her hands were stuffed in the pockets of her coat.

Before he could say anything, she took off running, ducking and weaving through the crowds of people. A security guard took off after her, and the sales assistant stopped Oliver from following, looking grim.

“Sir, if you could show me your receipt…”

“Please, whatever she took, I’ll pay for it. She doesn’t understand,” Oliver protested, remembering the ‘Secret Game’ Laurel had taught Charlie to play.

After what felt like hours, but was closer to several minutes, the guard returned with Charlie in tow. Oliver was so relieved, he rushed forward and hugged her to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly to the store manager, who had been called to deal with the chaos. She held out her tiny hand, offering him a pretty turquoise necklace with plastic diamonds. “I didn’t have any money.”

“Charlotte,” Oliver sighed. “You know I would buy that for you if you asked.”

“It wasn’t for me,” she said, blinking through her tears at him. “It was for Felicity. I wanted to give her a present to make her happy.”

The words addressed an elephant in the room that Oliver wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Since their kiss on Wednesday, Felicity had gone out of her way to avoid him. She’d called in sick Thursday and Friday, working from home and ignoring his calls. On Saturday, she’d managed a quick visit with Charlie while Oliver had been preoccupied with a conference call. He’d seen a glimpse of her ponytail as she left, but she’d still screened his calls and he was desperately trying to figure out what to do next.

The manager, named Calvin, saw how scared and genuinely regretful Charlie was, and promised not to press charges.

“You’re always welcome to shop here, Mr. Queen,” Calvin assured him, shooting a kind smile at Charlie.

“Thank you. This won’t happen again,” Oliver said, seriously. “Time to go, kiddo.”

The ride home was completely silent, except for Charlie’s tiny sniffles as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Moira and Thea were conspicuous in their absence as father and daughter arrived in the parlor, setting the bags of shopping down.

Charlie didn’t even wait for him to speak, racing straight upstairs to lock herself away in her room. Oliver gave her some time, placing a phone call to Joanna in the interim to keep her in the loop. Joanna didn’t seem too concerned, assuring him that making mistakes was a part of growing up.

“What is important is how you deal with this going forward, and teach her right from wrong,” she told him.

“I’ll go talk to her. Thank you, Joanna.”

“Any time.”

He climbed the stairs slowly, trying to think about what he could say, but all the words flew from his head as he opened the door to find Charlie curled in her bed and crying for Felicity. His heart ached for more reasons than one – he didn’t want to be the reason Felicity would refuse his daughter, and he also regretted that he was not enough for her. After weeks of what he thought had been progress, Charlotte still begged for comfort from somebody else.

He dialed with uncertain fingers, getting sent straight to voicemail.

“Felicity, I’m so lost. I’m making a mess of everything… but Charlie needs you. If not for me, come for her. _Please_.”

It took mere seconds for his phone to buzz, and his stomach swooped once as he saw her name on the screen.

_On my way_.

* * *

Felicity sat tentatively on the edge of the bed, resting her hand on top of the mound of blankets that covered one tiny little girl. As much as it killed her, she couldn’t help but listen to all the voicemails Oliver had left, each one sounding more desperate than the last. When he’d brought Charlie into it, though, she knew she didn’t have a hope in hell of turning him down.

Blessedly, he hadn’t tried to say anything to her other than explaining the shoplifting saga, and had now left her alone to try to calm Charlie down. She couldn’t think with him near her, unable to focus on anything but how it had felt to kiss him. The moment had plagued her, day and night, and she still dreaded having to face him because she didn’t know if she had the restraint to stop herself from living it all over again, in glorious technicolor.

“Charlie, please talk to me.”

“I did something bad,” Charlie wailed, sounding muffled in her pillow.

“I know, sweetheart,” Felicity said, soothingly. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

Charlie shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Oliver’s going to send me away!”

Felicity blinked. “What?”

“I heard him call the lady, Joanna. Can I come live with you?” Charlie begged, poking her red face out from under the blankets.

“Oliver is _not_ going to send you away,” Felicity said, emphatically.

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’ll even make him tell you himself. Oliver?” she called out.

The door flew open within seconds, and Oliver looked breathless and panicked. “What’s wrong?”

“Please assure Charlie you are not getting rid of her-”

“What?” Oliver looked scandalized. “No, never. I’d never do that to you, Charlie.”

“See?” Felicity said, turning back to Charlie. “I told you.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie mumbled.

“Do you understand that what Laurel did, what she taught you to do, is wrong? That stealing is never okay?”

“Yes.”

“And do you know that you can ask your father, or even _me_ , any time you really, really want some money to buy something?”

“I couldn’t ask you,” Charlie said quietly. “It was for _your_ present.”

Felicity looked up at Oliver in surprise, as he had omitted that detail from his explanation.

“Why would you buy me a present?” she asked, baffled.

“Because Oliver made you sad.”

There was a beat of awkward silence, and Felicity cleared her throat loudly.

“That’s very nice of you, but it’s still not okay to take things without paying for them, even when they’re a gift. Okay?”

“Okay,” Charlie agreed.

Felicity looked to Oliver, but he still seemed lost and exhausted.

“Now, you’re still in trouble, sweetheart, and I think Oliver will think of something that can be a punishment for you.”

Oliver nodded. “Your new comic,” he said to his daughter. “I will keep it for another week, okay? And tonight you have to go to bed a half hour earlier than usual.”

Charlie nodded, looking suitably ashamed. “May I have a nap now?”

“Yes. Let me know when you wake up, okay?” Oliver said.

Together, Felicity and Oliver headed downstairs to the study. Without the child to act as a buffer, the tension was heavy in the air and Felicity felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

“We need to talk,” she said, at the same moment as he said, “thank you.”

Felicity grimaced. “You go first.”

“I can’t help but think some higher power really has it in for me. It’s some form of punishment, throwing a child at me when I have no idea how to be a good father. I think it’s getting easier, and then I find out just how wrong I am.”

“You’re not a bad father,” she protested. “Nobody knows how to do this at first. The only difference between you and every other first-time parent is that Charlie isn’t a newborn.”

“You seem to be a natural at it,” Oliver said with a hint of bitterness.

“She’s not my child,” Felicity reminded him.

“I know, and yet you can still reach her when I can’t.”

Felicity looked at him, reading his eyes as easily as she always did. “Oh, Oliver, you think she _likes me better_ , don’t you?”

Oliver remained silent.

“Yesterday, Charlie told me about a project she’s doing for school,” Felicity said, unlocking her phone and tapping the screen a few times. “The teacher asked all the kids to illustrate a hero, and write a sentence explaining why they chose that hero. With her latest interests, I expected Batman, or something similar, but then she showed me this.”

Felicity held out her phone, displaying a photo she’d taken of Charlotte’s picture. It was clearly Oliver, complete with a mask and cape. In shaky letters, she’d written _my daddy is my hero because he tries to save the world every day, and he still has time to be my daddy._

“She knows that what we do at Queen Consolidated is important, so she understands why you can’t always be around. She loves you and she appreciates every effort you make to be her father. You’re _everything_ to her. Don’t underestimate that.”

Oliver sighed, knowing Felicity was right. After knowing only a mother, however unreliable, for most of her life, it was only natural for Charlotte to crave a maternal figure when she was upset. It didn’t change the fact that he was, and always would be, her father, and he needed to act like it.

“Thank you,” he exhaled.

“No problem. You just forget how perceptive she is sometimes,” Felicity smiled, and for a moment they shared a look of understanding, something that had been missing for the past few weeks. Oliver looked into her eyes and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Felicity…”

The smile slid from her face and he could almost see her shut down, lock herself away. “I should go.”

“No, wait. Please, you said your piece. Let me say mine.”

She looked away, but he stepped forward, gently turning her chin back to him again before softly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I know that our kiss confused you, and I’m sorry. For me, it made everything so unbelievably clear.”

Felicity blinked once, the only sign that she was hearing him.

“You think it was out of some warped sense of gratitude? You couldn’t be more wrong. Of course, I’m grateful that you’ve supported me with Charlie, but I’ve always known how remarkable you are; this whole ordeal has just forced me to admit it.”

It was difficult to doubt him when he looked at her like that, but she was still too shocked to speak. 

“I am the best version of myself because of you. I think you are compassionate, and smart, and beautiful, and, if you’ll let me, I’d like to kiss you again.”

“Oliver,” she breathed, but she was already leaning forward, falling into his endless blue eyes.

This time, Felicity’s body buzzed to life under his touch, tears glittering in her eyelashes as they fluttered closed. Heat blossomed under her skin where his hands caressed her on her waist and back, his fingers creeping under the hem of her shirt as she sighed against his mouth. He kissed greedily, with the power he usually reserved for the boardroom, and the last of her restraint crumbled as her fingers dove into his hair.

She’d never stood a chance against him, not when she was more sure of her love for him than she was of her own name.

She told him so without words, instead with her nails scraping his scalp and her teeth teasing his lips. She had stood at the precipice and he had carried her over; they were freefalling, and she hoped to every deity that she would stick the landing.

Oliver emitted a soft growl and she realized she’d forced him up against the wall, but from the wild look in his eyes, she knew he was enjoying it. Felicity caught her breath as he continued to kiss her jaw, then her collarbone, his stubble rough against her skin.

“Felicity,” he murmured, in a tone far more gentle than she was capable of at this point, “I am going to stop kissing you now, because otherwise I’m going to lie you down on my desk and lock the door, and we will never leave this room.”

A thrill rushed through her, but she heeded his warning, stepping back from him as she ran her hands over her disheveled hair.

“Charlie,” she croaked, and Oliver’s eyes widened in question. “If we’re doing this, she comes first, no matter what.”

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” he countered, “and please don’t wear high heels.”

Still breathless, Felicity winked at him and let herself out.


	11. Kaleidoscope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good evening (or morning or afternoon, depending on your timezone)! I kept you guys waiting a month again and I am so, so sorry. I hope you can forgive me, even though this chapter is a bit of a filler. Feedback is appreciated; goodness knows I could use any bit of inspiration you guys could channel me right now. Enjoy.

**Show me your fears, show me your scars,  
** **I'll take whatever's left of your heart**

**Give me heaven, give me hell,**  
**All the dreams you try to sell,**  
**I want your fears, your hopes,  
** **The whole kaleidoscope**

The next day, Oliver left work early to collect Charlotte from school, partially because he wanted to talk to her, and partially because Felicity’s short skirt and five-inch stilettos were driving him crazy. They’d kept their budding relationship under wraps, but with just a secret smile and a whiff of her perfume, he was almost throwing caution to the wind, his company and public image be damned.

He drove to a small jewelry store while Charlie talked about her day, but she quickly grew distracted by the glittering stones beneath glass cases.

“Why are we here?” she asked, breathlessly.

“You wanted to buy Felicity a necklace, right? I brought you here to choose one, any one you like.”

The sales assistant was patient and kind as Charlie studied a number of pieces with careful eyes and a serious expression. “It has to be perfect,” she said, conversationally, and Oliver held back a smile while the woman nodded sagely.

Finally, Charlie settled on something, and it wasn’t a necklace after all. Instead, it was a charm bracelet, with four silver charms on it and room for plenty more.

“See, it’s a lipstick, because she wears lipstick; a computer, because she likes computers; a heart; and this one’s a butterfly so it matches my bracelet.”

“It’s perfect,” Oliver assured her. “Let me pay for it, and then we’ll go buy something to make for dinner.”

Later, as Charlie helped him by sitting on the bench and singing as he cooked, he decided it was time to bite the bullet.

“I wanted to ask you something important,” he began, setting down the knife he was using to chop the salad.

“What is it?”

“How would you feel if Felicity started spending more time here?”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “I _love_ it when Felicity’s here.”

“I know you do, princess, but this will be different.”

“Different, how?”

Oliver frowned, trying to think of the best way to describe it but coming up short. _Girlfriend_ felt trivial, _partner_ too impersonal. In all honesty, the two of them had been in an exclusive relationship for as long as Charlie had known them; they just hadn’t realized it yet.

“Do you know what dating means?” he asked hesitantly, and Charlie nodded.

“It’s when grown-ups go out to dinner and kiss a lot, on the _lips_ ,” she giggled. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying. “You and Felicity are dating?”

“Yes, if that’s okay with you,” Oliver said, carefully.

“You kiss her _on the lips_?” Charlie asked, sounding delighted.

Oliver dodged the question. “It means things will change a little bit, but you can still tell me anything, okay?”

Charlie shrugged, still smiling. “If dating makes you happy, I want you to do it,” she said, simply.

“Good. I’ve asked Felicity to come to dinner tonight, so you can give her the present we bought for her today.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, practically bouncing with excitement. She reached for the lettuce, carefully layering it in the salad bowl. “I’m going to make the salad look pretty. Can you cut the cucumber, please?” she asked him, and he grinned.

“Yes, _Chef_.”

* * *

When Sara called her the minute she got home from work, Felicity tried to keep her voice sounding neutral.

“Sorry, I was really busy with work this weekend.”

“You were just hiding from me so I couldn’t bug you about Oliver,” Sara said, bluntly, and a smile appeared on Felicity’s face at the mention of his name. “So, spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” Felicity protested, but Sara had a sixth sense for when her best friend was lying.

“ _No way_. He kissed you again, didn’t he?” At Felicity’s silence, Sara gasped. “More than once? Did you-”

“ _No_ ,” Felicity cuts in, firmly. “We didn’t go any further than just kissing.”

“But you wanted to,” Sara said, and she squealed when Felicity didn’t deny it. “Oh my god! What did he say?”

Felicity was about to speak when she spotted a notification on one of her many searches. She always monitored when Oliver or Queen Consolidated was mentioned on any major webpage.

“Felicity?”

“Wait, I’m reading something.”

_In this exclusive report, a source inside QC has opened up about the new heir to the Queen Empire._

_“Mr. Queen struggles to connect with his child,” our source reveals. “His secretary, Felicity Smoak, has been his lifeline, babysitting the girl most days.”_

_When asked to comment on the extent of Smoak’s relationship with Queen, our source is emphatic. “Yes, there’s definitely romance blossoming there. With the mother out of the picture, Smoak’s got herself a ready-made family and a new tax bracket to boot.”_

The warm feeling she’d had all day quickly dissipated and was replaced with dismay and shame.

“Felicity? What’s wrong?”

“There’s an article online about me,” she said, flatly. “It makes me out to be Oliver’s gold-digging _secretary_.”

“Look, you know all those gossip sites are just rumors and desperation.”

“But this is how it looks, isn’t it?” Felicity remarked. “Once we’re _official_ , everybody’s going to think this is true.”

“Don’t put a pin in this before it’s even started,” Sara admonished. “ _If_ that’s the case, you’ll be top news for a day before something else comes along. What really matters is how you and Oliver feel about each other.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “Thanks, Sara. Listen, I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late. Oliver is making dinner.”

“Have fun and use protection,” Sara sang, mockingly.

“Don’t be stupid,” Felicity scoffed, hanging up on her friend and turning to her closet, where the dress she’d chosen for the evening hung invitingly on its hanger.

Her excitement returned and she quickly dressed and touched up her makeup, electing to leave her hair in a ponytail because she suspected Oliver _really_ liked her neck. As she stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, however, she was suddenly blinded by flashes of light.

“Felicity Smoak!” multiple voices chorused together, as people swarmed her, waving microphones in her face. “What can you tell us about Oliver Queen? How much time do you spend with his daughter?” The questions were rapid and Felicity was so shocked she froze in her tracks, her eyes falling desperately on the door.

“Felicity,” a softer, calm voice murmured, and she looked to her left to see John Diggle materialize between two reporters. “Come with me.”

With the solid wall of bodyguard shielding her, she managed to make it to the limousine, which was waiting out the front of the building for her.

“He thought you might get into trouble,” Diggle said grimly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier. I’ll be looking into upgrading the security in your building.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said, still shaken. “They can’t use the elevator without a key, obviously. I’ll just have to be more careful about leaving and getting home.”

Diggle gave her a look which clearly meant he was done arguing and would do whatever the hell he liked, so she took a moment to compose herself, relieved that none of the paparazzi seemed to be following them.

“So, you and Oliver, huh?” Diggle asked, and Felicity playfully shoved him when she saw the smirk on his face.

“Don’t look so smug,” she scolded.

“I can’t help it. I just won a bet against Thea.”

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she changed the subject and chatted easily with John as they drove to the Queen mansion. When he helped her out of the car, however, she remembered why she was there. Her palms started to sweat a little and she bit her lip; the door seemed to loom in front of her despite the years she’d spent coming and going from this house as if she’d lived here.

Diggle seemed to vanish with the car, no doubt to give her space, and she took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. She heard thundering footsteps and then the door swung open, Charlie standing breathless on the other side.

“Hey, kiddo, remember you’re not supposed to open the door without checking the peephole and asking me first,” Oliver reprimanded.

Immediately, Charlie swung the door shut, and Felicity burst into laughter.

“It’s Felicity,” she could hear Charlie say solemnly. “Can I open it now?”

“Yes, of course you can,” Oliver sighed, amusement creeping into his tone.

Still laughing, Felicity greeted Charlie with a hug, and then turned to Oliver with a shy smile. He moved forward, taking her hand, but they both stopped when they realized Charlie was watching them expectantly. Oliver brushed his lips against Felicity’s cheek instead, and Charlie made a noise of disappointment.

“Dinner’s ready,” Oliver said, to distract her. “Why don’t you show Felicity the salad you made?”

Brightening, Charlie grabbed Felicity’s hand and pulled her to the dining room, where Felicity praised the simple side dish as if it were in a five-star restaurant. Charlie did not stop smiling for the entire meal, chatting animatedly about her books and toys as the adults nodded and laughed at the appropriate times. Oliver could not help himself, stealing glances at Felicity to see how her beautiful face lit up, and then how she would blush when she caught him looking.

Later, the three of them sat on the couch together, watching _The Emperor’s New Groove_. Oliver was in the middle, with Charlie tucked into his left side, and Felicity sat at the opposite end so her feet laid in Oliver’s lap and his hand rested on her ankles. She was using his laptop, tapping away at the keys and looking up at the movie every so often. It was perfectly comfortable, domestic, and Oliver couldn’t help but think that everything was as it was meant to be.

“I knew it!” Felicity exclaimed. Charlie had long since fallen asleep, and Oliver shifted so he could lean towards Felicity without jostling his daughter.

“What?”

“I found out who gave an ‘exclusive’ to the press. It was Adam Masterson; he works at QC.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“I checked his bank records,” she shrugged, and Oliver didn’t bother asking because he knew her talents with computers extended far beyond the realms of his comprehension. “We had a disastrous date a while back and he clearly still harbors a grudge.”

“What would you like me to do about it?” Oliver asked, subconsciously beginning to rub her feet.

“Nothing. I just froze all of his accounts – it seems the IRS is looking into him for tax fraud. How unfortunate,” she said, with satisfaction.

“I’m sorry you have to have your whole life put under a microscope because of me.”

She glanced at him, sharply. “Don’t say that. It isn’t your fault.”

“I know, but I still wish it weren’t the case.”

Reaching out, Felicity grasped his hand and squeezed. “It doesn’t matter. Getting to spend time with you and Charlie, just like this, is worth it.”

Smiling, Oliver leaned towards her for a kiss, but Charlie mumbled something as he moved.

“Hey, princess,” he said, softly. “Time for bed.”

He gently roused the little girl from sleep while Felicity began to stack their glasses and empty ice cream bowls.

“Is Felicity sleeping over?” Charlie inquired, hope shining in her eyes.

“I, uh…” Oliver stammered, glancing over uncertainly.

“Not tonight,” Felicity interrupted, “but thank you for the invitation, sweetheart. Maybe another time.”

Charlie pouted adorably. “But we didn’t give Felicity her present yet!”

“Go and get it, then,” Oliver sighed.

Felicity gave him an exasperated look as Charlie ran from the room.

“You didn’t have to get me anything!”

“Hey, the boss insisted,” Oliver protested, holding up his hands.

Charlie watched eagerly as Felicity opened the box and exclaimed over the delicate bracelet.

“Oliver, put it on for her,” she instructed, and Felicity held back a smile as he fastened it on her wrist.

“It’s perfect, Charlie. I love it. I’ll wear it every day.”

Beaming with pride, the little girl jumped into Felicity’s lap for a hug.

“Okay, Charlie, bedtime. It’s a school night,” Oliver said.

“Read me a story?” Charlie begged Felicity, her blue eyes imploring.

“Of course. _The Wishing Chair_?”

“Yeah!”

Felicity smiled at Oliver, mouthing _I’ll be back_ as she followed Charlie to the stairs. He could hear them laughing and talking, his two girls, and wondered how he could ever have been so lucky to have them both.

He hadn’t felt this happy in a long, long time.


	12. Sigh No More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More notes at the end (some of which is super important to me), but I just wanted to say, I LOVE THESE LYRICS FOR OLIVER'S CHARACTER, BOTH IN THIS STORY AND IN CANON, SO SO MUCH.

**Love; it will not betray you**  
**Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free  
** **Be more like the man you were made to be**

As the week passed, Oliver started to feel like he wasn’t spending enough time with Felicity.

The day after their quiet dinner at home, he’d had a visit from Joanna to see how Charlie was going, then a meeting with the security team about the heightened interest in his private life. The following afternoon, Charlie had been sent home early with a fever, and Felicity had offered to manage things at QC while he took some time off to stay with his daughter.

As much as he appreciated everything she did to help him, the few stolen moments they’d managed to squeeze in hadn’t been enough for him, and he missed her.

He ended up calling her on Saturday morning with a plan in mind.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she shot back, sounding slightly breathless. “I’m just out for a run. What’s up? How’s Charlotte?”

“She’s doing much better, actually. She’s still got a slight cough but her temperature is back to normal,” he said.

“That’s great.”

“I actually wanted to know if you wanted to do something tonight, just the three of us.”

“Oliver, if Charlie isn’t well…” Felicity protested.

“She told me to tell you it would help her get better. She misses you. _I_ miss you,” he added, speaking more softly. He smirked with satisfaction when he heard her sharp intake of breath.

“Okay, if you’re sure. What did you have in mind?”

“It’s a surprise,” Oliver said. “Come over at six?”

“Sure. See you then.”

He left his study and went into the kitchen, grinning at Thea, who was busy making herself some breakfast.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Thea asked, suspiciously.

“Nothing. Can you put some toast in for me, too?”

She ignored his request and studied him carefully, tilting her head in a bird-like manner. “I know that face. That’s your _Felicity_ face.”

“I don’t have a Felicity face.”

“You smile like that every time you say her name!” Thea exclaimed, accusingly.

Shrugging, Oliver plucked the piece of toast out of her hand and took a bite.

“You know, I’m not sure who’s more in love with her; you, or Charlie.”

“What about me?” Charlie asked, still yawning and rubbing her eyes as she stumbled into the room, wrapped in her fluffy blue dressing gown.

“Nothing. You want cornflakes and honey?” Oliver asked.

“Yes, please.”

“And hot chocolate?” Thea guessed.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, I’ll make you some.”

Charlie climbed up on the counter in her usual place, and Oliver briefly touched her forehead as he passed her a bowl of cereal.

“Are you feeling better?”

Charlie nodded.

“Good, because we’re doing something special tonight.”

Brightening instantly, Charlie gave such an excited wriggle that she almost dropped her spoon. “Is Felicity coming, too?”

Thea snorted quietly, covering it with a cough, and Oliver tossed a sideways glare at her.

“Yes, she is. We’re going out for dinner.”

“But, if you like,” Thea cut in, sliding the mug of hot chocolate on the counter, “you and I can have a girls’ day of shopping today, if you feel up to it, and let Oliver do some boring work stuff at home.”

“Yeah!” Charlie grinned. “Can we get strawberry pancakes like last time?”

“You know it.”

“Not too much sugar,” Oliver warned, under his breath, and Thea smirked at him.

“Look at you, being such a responsible parent, like you never begged Raisa for chocolate-chip cookies and ate them so fast you were sick for days.”

Charlie stared wide-eyed at them and Thea laughed, poking her tongue out at her big brother.

In retaliation, Oliver filched her second slice of toast from her hand.

“Hey!”

He darted from the room, hearing Charlie’s delighted laughter ringing through the once lifeless manor halls.

It was his favorite sound in the world, and he knew he’d do anything to make sure he never stopped hearing it.

* * *

If somebody had told Felicity a year ago that her nose-to-the-grindstone boss would take three days off to care for a sick child, she would have told them they were dreaming. _Oliver Queen, CEO_ did not have days off.

Now, though, she knew that it was just further proof of the better man he was becoming. His work was important to him, but Charlie was more so, and she was flattered that he trusted her enough to keep QC afloat in his absence. Never before had he allowed anybody to take the reins for him like this – he was growing, letting people in, letting them help him.

As proud as she was of him, a selfish part of her craved him. More than once, she’d started toward his office, only to be faced with his empty chair and a slight sinking feeling in her chest. Brief texts brought a smile to her face, but it wasn’t the same as hearing his voice, feeling the warmth of being enveloped in his arms.

Felicity parked in her usual place in his driveway, and tried not to rush too eagerly to the front door. Her willpower failed her, however, when the door flew open and Oliver broke into a near-jog down the path toward her. She was barely able to appreciate how good he looked in a navy button-down shirt and dark jeans before he pulled her close, her feet lifting off the ground in his enthusiasm.

“I missed this,” he sighed into her neck.

As he set her down, Felicity pressed her lips briefly to his before glancing behind him for Charlie.

“I asked her to wait,” Oliver answered her question before he could ask it, somewhat petulantly. “Can’t I have a minute of your attention before she steals it all?”

Laughing, Felicity kissed the pout off his lips, enjoying the way his hands tightened on her waist when she opened her mouth to him.

“I can’t believe I have to share you with a six-year-old,” he murmured.

“Yeah, you really can’t compete. She’s pretty cute,” she giggled.

“ _Oliver_ ,” the girl in question whined from the doorway. “Can I come out _now_?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Felicity said. Charlie barreled down the path, wearing a pink shirt under a faux fur vest and blue jeans tucked into brown boots. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks pink, the perfect picture of health.

“You were right, kiddo,” Oliver said, playfully. “Felicity _did_ make you better.”

“Is it time to go?”

“Nearly. Let’s go grab your coat. Uncle Dig is bringing the car around.”

Charlie grinned, grabbing both Oliver and Felicity’s hands so she could walk between them, jumping and swinging along the way. Oliver was enchanted by the adoring expression on Felicity’s face as she looked down at the little girl.

Once Charlie was wrapped up and warm, the three of them climbed into the car, heading into town.

“Where are we going?” Felicity asked.

“It’s a secret,” Charlie giggled, and Felicity glared jokingly at both Oliver beside her and Dig in the driver’s seat, who refused to answer her.

The destination turned out to be a hole-in-the-wall pizza place downtown, where they sat at a sectioned-off table by candlelight. Felicity ordered barbecue chicken pizza and Charlie dug happily into her own with pineapple, peppers, anchovies, and mushrooms, while Oliver looked on in disgust. He stuck to plain old pepperoni and was shocked when Felicity agreed to try Charlie’s concoction, even more so when she enjoyed it.

They then walked to the Starling Museum, where a guard let them in through a side door. 

Felicity frowned in confusion as they wandered through the deserted halls. “It’s closed. What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see,” Oliver promised.

They arrived in a small theatre, where Charlie carefully chose their seats after some deliberation, despite there being nobody else there. After a few moments, the domed ceiling above them lit up and the chairs reclined back.

“A planetarium?” Felicity guessed.

“Charlie hasn’t seen one before,” Oliver confirmed. "I hope it's okay."

“It's more than okay. It’s perfect.”

The voiceover pointed out planets and constellations while Charlie exclaimed in awe.

“Look! It looks like there’s glitter sprinkled everywhere! Why can’t we see all those stars at night?”

“Because we live so close to a big city,” Felicity explained. “All the bright lights make it hard to see the ones in the sky. If you go camping far away, where there are no lights, you can see so many more.”

“Can we go camping, _please_?” Charlie begged Oliver immediately.

“Maybe in the summer, when it’s warmer,” Oliver mused. “But we can put some glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling if you like, so you can look up at them at night, instead.”

“Yeah!”

Diggle picked them up when the show was over and drove them back to the Queen mansion.

“Sleep over tonight,” Oliver murmured in Felicity’s ear. “No expectations.”

She smiled at him shyly and agreed, and his whole heart lifted, floating on a cloud.

Once they made it inside, Felicity declared that everybody had to get into their pyjamas, or in her case, one of Oliver’s shirts and a pair of pants borrowed from Thea’s room. When Oliver had finished giving Charlie a bath and brought her back to the living room, Felicity was waiting with a stack of blankets and pillows.

“We’re making blanket forts.”

With a Disney movie playing in the background, they built an elaborate structure with such a thick layer of pillows on the floor that Charlie could lie down and practically sink out of sight. Laughing at the sight of Oliver draping the final pink fluffy blanket over the entrance, Felicity quickly kissed him before they both crawled inside to admire their handiwork, lying on either side of Charlie. Felicity read by flashlight, then Charlie held it under her chin and attempted to make up a ghost story about a monster who loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Oliver didn’t let go of Felicity’s hand the whole time, stroking his thumb over her skin.

“Do you know what the scariest ghost story is, though?” Oliver asked, grinning when Charlie shook her head. “It’s the story of the tickling monster. They say he lives in blanket forts, waiting for the perfect time to strike…”

With that, he pounced on Charlie, tickling her mercilessly as she shrieked with laughter.

“No! No, stop!” she gasped, between giggles.

Oliver made loud growling noises in response to her protests.

“Felicity, help me!”

Felicity shifted closer, reaching to stop Oliver’s hands, but he turned on her with mischievous eyes and began tickling her, too.

Charlie’s helpless laughter increased in volume. “Stop! I gotta pee! Daddy, stop!”

Instantly, Oliver and Felicity both froze, and still giggling, Charlie crawled from the fort and raced to the bathroom.

“She called me _Daddy_ ,” Oliver said, softly.

Felicity watched him carefully, observing the wonderment in his eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just… strange. I didn’t think…”

“I get it,” she smiled. “Kids move fast. To us, it seems like she’s only been here a short time, but for her, it’s easy to accept that this is her life now.”

“It’s starting to feel real,” he remarked. “It isn’t a surprise anymore to come home from work and see toys and books piled all over the living room.”

Felicity gripped his hand, pressing her lips together as if she were close to tears. “I know how hard this has been for you, and I really want you to know… I’m  _so_  proud of you, Oliver.”

Before he could think of words to respond, Charlie crawled back into the fort, flopping down between them again and handing Oliver a book.

“ _Matilda_ , again?” he asked her.

“It’s my favorite.”

“I like _Matilda_ ,” Felicity agreed. “Maybe another day, we can watch the movie, too.”

Charlie smiled, and Oliver began to read, glancing up at Felicity every so often. Charlie’s eyelids began to flutter after a while, her breathing slowly becoming more even. Oliver slipped a bookmark in to mark the page and set the book down, gently pressing a kiss to Charlie’s forehead.

“Night, princess.”

“Night, Daddy. Love you,” Charlie murmured, sleepily.

“Love you, too,” Oliver whispered. He glanced up at Felicity, seeing her tears now trailing down her cheeks, and reached silently for her hand again, entwining their fingers. It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind for their first night together, but it was perfect, all the same.

He didn’t realize he’d drifted off until the doorbell sounded, clanging through the house and echoing off the walls. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he glanced at his watch and saw it was well after midnight.

The doorbell rang again, twice, and he rolled out of the blanket fort, hearing Felicity stirring behind him as he went. He paused by the coat stand, tugging on a sweater in preparation for the cool night air, but nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

He opened the door, and his heart catapulted into his throat before falling with a thud to the ground.

“Hello, Oliver. I’ve come to take my daughter home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think a few of you suspected this was coming. It had to happen, though - I've had some lines from upcoming scenes planned out since the very beginning. Thank you so much for sticking with me between updates. I have one more exam for the semester, so the next chapter will hopefully be finished soon.
> 
> Now, I'm participating in a project for Emily Bett Rickards's birthday which involves making a photo scrapbook of fan contributions. You can find the full list of details here: http://emilybettbirthdayproject.tumblr.com/about
> 
> We only have about two weeks to gather as many messages and pictures and as much fanart as we can, so I would really appreciate it if you could send something through, even if it's just a sentence or two passing on your birthday wishes. This is our chance to show her how much we love her, how she brings people from across the world together, and how much we appreciate the character that she's brought to life. If Felicity Smoak is important to you, tell her why!
> 
> If you have followers on twitter or tumblr who you think would like to be included, it would be amazing if you could tweet and blog about it, too. Spread the word like wildfire over this weekend and give everybody as much time as possible to get their contribution in. Thanks so much, guys.


	13. Fear and Loathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I am so sorry I've kept you all waiting. This chapter was like pulling off my fingernails one by one, and every time I sat down to write it, I somehow ended up working on other AUs and I need to be BANNED from opening up new Word documents because there are like fifty in my unpublished olicity fanfiction folder with 4,000-20,000 words and I need to learn to finish stories before starting new ones... anyway.
> 
> (Let the record show I have a high school level understanding of MY country's legal system (and I'm two seasons into Suits) - I'm trying my best to make it believable while also fitting with the direction I want to take the story. Please allow some leeway with the details for the next few chapters!)

**Now the time is here,**  
**Baby you don't have to live your life in fear  
** **And the sky is clear, is clear of fear**

“Go away, Laurel,” Oliver scowled, moving to close the door in her face.

Laurel slid her shoulder in the way. “I will, as soon as I get what I’ve come for."

“You think you can just leave her here all this time and come back for her when it suits you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I had a rough patch, but it’s over now. I’m ready to take her home.”

“Her _home_ is here, now. Get lost before I call your father,” Oliver threatened.

“What’s going on?” a new, soft voice asked. Oliver whirled around, seeing Felicity standing in the doorway to the living room with Charlie on her hip, still half asleep.

“Take her upstairs,” Oliver ordered, but Laurel was too fast, taking advantage of his distraction to slip inside.

“Charlotte!” she exclaimed. Charlie’s eyes blinked open, cloudy with confusion.

“Laurel, get out of my house,” Oliver hissed.

“Give her to me, and I will.”

Felicity tried to duck past, making for the stairs, but Laurel blocked her way.

“You must be Felicity, the _tramp_ trying to steal my daughter,” Laurel said icily.

“Don’t you dare speak to her like that,” Oliver snarled. “Last chance, or I’m calling the cops.”

“Good, call them. They’ll call CPS, and then Charlotte will get to spend some quality time in foster care until you can get a hearing, which could take days; you know how the system can get backed up with cases…”

Felicity looked at Oliver, wide-eyed, and shook her head in alarm.

“Come on, baby,” Laurel cooed to Charlie, reaching to take her. “Come to Mommy.”

Charlie said nothing, her tiny hands tightening on Felicity’s shirt.

“Don’t mess around, baby; we have to get going. Come here.”

Charlie turned her face away, pressing it into Felicity’s chest and clinging to her like a lifeline.

There was a deadly silence in the room for several seconds, before Laurel spoke with a darker tone than Oliver had ever heard her use.

“Give her to me, _now_.”

“I can’t do that,” Felicity responded quietly, curling her body like a protective shield around Charlie.

“You can’t take her. I have custody,” Oliver growled.

“ _Temporary_ custody, awarded only in my absence.”

“You’re a drug addict.”

She held out her hands, as if to show a lack of track marks. “Test me – I’m clean.”

Oliver and Laurel stared each other down in stony silence, and Felicity’s path to the stairs was still blocked. Charlie began to cry softly, her face still hidden against the thin fabric of Felicity’s clothing.

“Call the police, Felicity,” Oliver ordered.

“But-”

“Call them.”

“They’ll take her. You’ll really do that to her?” Laurel demanded.

“If that’s what it takes to protect her from you,” Oliver retorted, his heart in his throat at the words.

Charlie’s cries grew louder, accompanied by frantic coughing sobs as Felicity rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her.

“I’m her mother! She doesn’t need protecting from me!”

“And you’re doing a fine job of demonstrating that, aren’t you?”

Laurel flushed crimson, her eyes flashing. “Enough. Give her to me.” Her hands moved quickly, seizing Charlie’s hips and tugging, but Charlie refused to let go of Felicity, her wheezing worsening.

Taking advantage of Laurel’s momentary shock, Felicity managed to weave past her and grabs Charlie’s inhaler from the console table, administering it carefully and with soothing murmurs.

“You did this to her,” Oliver said, almost spitting with rage. “ _You_ did this.”

“This isn’t over,” Laurel hissed. “I may not have finished law school, but I still know the system. I won’t make it easy for you.”

“Get out!” Oliver roared, losing his temper. With a final venomous glare at Felicity, Laurel fled, and Oliver slammed the door behind her and dead-bolted it.

Felicity burst into tears and Oliver rushed to comfort her, wrapping his arms around both of his girls and reassuring himself they were both okay.

“We’ll fight this,” he promised them both, even though he knew Charlie didn’t understand what was going on. “We’ll fight this and we’ll win.”

* * *

 

Once she’d calmed down, Felicity set about making them all hot chocolate in the kitchen. The warm, fuzzy mood of the evening had well and truly evaporated, but she still did her best to smile and talk about nothing in particular, and once Charlie’s eyes started to droop again, she carried her to bed and tucked her in.

They both had the same thought, grabbing blankets and pillows and moving to sit in the corner of the room, unwilling to let the sleeping girl out of their sight.

“I knew it wouldn’t last,” Oliver sighed. “I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I didn’t think Laurel would show up screaming in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t agree with her methods,” Felicity began, hesitantly, “but…”

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this?”

Felicity swallowed, but continued anyway. “I think we need to go into this objectively. _We?_ ” she questioned herself, laughing self-consciously. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. We’re not a _we_.”

“Felicity.”

“I think we – _you_ – need to fight for what’s best for Charlotte, and it might not necessarily be full custody.”

Anger at her suggestion burned through Oliver’s bloodstream, but he held his tongue to hear her out.

“You have to consider what she wants. Laurel is her mother and has been all she’s known for most of her life. Charlie at least deserves a chance to know _both_ of her parents. It was wrong of Laurel to keep her from you – can you live with doing the same to her? When Charlie gets older and starts asking questions, are you going to be able to tell her about this with a clear conscience?”

Oliver remained silent.

“And for all we know Laurel did run off to get clean so she could be better for Charlie. If the situation were reversed, wouldn’t you want to be given the chance to prove you could be what she needed?”

Oliver sighed, knowing she was right. “Felicity Smoak, you are a _much_ better person than I am.”

“I’m not,” she said, softly. “I want her to stay here, too. But I also know we have a much better chance of a favorable outcome if we go into this with clear minds and Charlie’s best interests at heart.” Studying him carefully, she gave him an uncertain look. “Do you hate me?”

He shook his head, but didn’t reach for her. “I could never hate you. It’s just a lot to think about.”

Felicity nodded dejectedly. “I guess I should go…”

“No.”

She glanced at him, looking hopeful.

“Charlie will wonder why you left,” he explained, and Felicity’s face fell again.

“Oh. Well, I’ll sleep in the guest room, then.”

Oliver nodded. “I’ll be in here.”

She left, making a valiant effort not to cry before she was out of earshot, but he caught a glimpse of her face just before the door shut that sent an anvil of guilt to the bottom of his chest. He hated himself for it, and he knew that Felicity was right – he was grateful he had her to stop him from making a mess of his daughter’s life.

There was just too much fury, bubbling inside of him, and he knew if he wasn’t careful, he could unleash it on her, and she didn’t deserve that. Needing space now would at least mean he wouldn’t say something borne of passionate anger that he couldn’t take back, something that could completely destroy this new thing between them before it even had a chance.

* * *

 

Sleep eluded him that night; instead, he lurked in the corner like a benevolent ghost until Charlie woke, then helped her bathe and dress for the day.

Felicity sat at the kitchen counter, her eyes red and her skin pale, but she forced a smile when Charlie ran up to hug her.

“Felicity! I thought you were gone…”

She avoided eye contact with Oliver, simply pushing her untouched plate of toast away before getting up to make breakfast for Charlie.

The little girl may have been young, but she was very observant, and after scoffing her cereal, she announced that she was going to the library and wanted to be alone. The tension in the kitchen grew as Felicity sat in silence, nursing a cup of coffee and staring at the marbled patterns on the counter.

Finally, Oliver couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, her voice quivering only slightly. “Look, I was thinking. You need to contact Joanna first, before anything else. I’ve already organized a meeting for this afternoon with your family’s lawyer – Thea and your mother will be there, too. And you should call Detective Lance, and Sara; let them know Laurel’s back, if they don’t know already. And I was thinking, we should speak to Charlotte’s teacher. If Charlie trusts her, maybe it would be good to have an impartial adult around. So Charlie can talk to someone she knows and trusts about how she’s feeling without worrying about upsetting you.”

“Breathe, Felicity,” Oliver said, cutting into her babble. Felicity’s cheeks reddened and she lowered her gaze again. “Thank you.”

“I… Oliver,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I understand that there is so much going on right now, and that you need to concentrate on Charlie without any… distractions. So, I know– I mean, I understand if you need me as an _assistant_ now, rather than as a friend, or…” she trailed off.

It hit him, then, not a sharp blow but more like the crest of a wave. Even with his anger – at himself, at Laurel, at the situation – and his resentment for Felicity’s ability to think clearly in the midst of all the confusion, he knew it now.

He loved her.

Perhaps he’d known it for days, weeks, years, but it was clearer than ever to him now as she offered up her own happiness to sacrifice for his benefit – for his daughter’s – that Oliver would never love anybody else the way he loved Felicity.

He’d been afraid to begin a relationship while he was finding his feet as a father, but she’d shown him at every turn that she thought first and foremost of Charlie’s wellbeing. Especially now, even when she believed he would hate her for it, she stood firm on what was best for Charlotte.

He _loved_ her.

God, he was lucky.

Oliver wanted her to know, despite the poor timing and the tension, and the words rose to his lips, to tell her how much he loved her.

“Move in with me.”

The words didn’t _exactly_ come out the way he’d meant them.

Felicity stared at him, speechless, not being privy to the revelation he’d just had, not understanding how they could go from the brink of breaking up to moving in together. “ _What?_ ”

Oliver tried again. “I need you, Felicity.” Closer, but still not what he wanted to say. “I don’t know if there’ll ever be a good time to ask, but I’m asking you now. Please, move in with me.”

“Oliver, we haven’t even-” she snapped her mouth shut, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

“Felicity.” _I love you_. “If I’m going to do this, I want you by my side the whole time. Not as my assistant. Not as my friend. You’re my _partner_.”

The silence stretched on as he waited, watching the emotions warring in her eyes as she considered his words.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll move in, on one condition. No, wait, two.”

“Name them,” Oliver said, eagerly.

“One, Charlie has to be okay with it.”

“And the second?”

“I keep my apartment, at least until things are more stable. That way, if you and Charlie need space, I have somewhere to go. And I want you to _promise_ that you’ll tell me if you need space. Okay?”

Oliver nodded, reaching for her to pull her into his arms. Everything that had felt off-balance since Laurel had shown up seemed to shift a little back to the way it should be. He buried his face in her hair, and from the light shudders through her body, he knew she was crying again.

They had a war on their hands, and the first battle to be fought still lay ahead of them. He didn’t know what the day would bring, or what new foe was waiting around the corner to drop another bombshell into his life.

With Felicity in his corner, though, Oliver felt a little less afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Additional) angst happened... I'm so sorry. This was never on the plan but somehow it happened and I have no idea?
> 
> I went back and looked at the comments for the last chapter, and I'm worried some readers may be displeased with Felicity's opinions in this one. She wants to believe there's good in everybody (even this Laurel - canon Laurel is a different kettle of fish we're not putting on the boil today), and she wants to consider every option to find what's best for Charlotte, no matter what. I hope my reasoning has come through well enough in my writing. If not, there's a comment box for a reason, and I'm unusually chatty right now...


End file.
